The Devil's Rose, Part Two: Experience
by Stuart Pidasso
Summary: In part one, we learned who Senator Coriolanus Snow was and what began his metamorphoses. In part two, the story starts on Snow's inauguration day, and we will watch him move closer to the man we love to hate. Along the way, he will cross paths with two young victors named Haymitch and Wiress, watch his daughter grow into an independent young woman, and realize what he truly wants.
1. Loyalty

**10 Loyalty**

Clearing her throat, Vera Fiducia tapped on the open door and called out across the large vacant room, "Mr. President?"

Glancing out a large glass pane window, a smiling President Coriolanus Snow turned around. "Ah, Vera. Come in."

Vera stepped into the large echoing room recently stripped of all its carpet and furniture. "I brought the groundskeeper, Mr. Croft, as you requested." She turned and motioned to silvered haired man peeking in from the hallway.

When the man entered and moved next to Vera, President Snow warmly approached and shook his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Croft. I've admired the landscaping here at the president's mansion for years. The summer garden is always a delight."

"Thank you, Mr. President. The honor is mine."

Glancing about the room, Vera studied the high ceiling and fine plaster engravings. "The building engineers told me that the modifications should take no longer than a month."

Coriolanus clasped his hands enthusiastically together. "The room is perfect, facing the sun as it does. Once they add the extra windows, we can have the shelving set up.

Briefly looking about the room, Mr. Croft turned to Vera with a confused look.

"This is the room I told you about," confirmed the secretary. "The President is converting this space into an indoor garden."

"Oh. I see." Mr. Croft's brow furled as he took a second glance about. "Um..."

Coriolanus turned to the groundskeeper. "Do you have a concern, Mr. Croft? Feel free to speak your mind."

The man placed his fidgeting hands behind his back. "Mr. President, even with the added windows, there won't be enough light to make this room into a plausible indoor garden."

"True," replied the president. Coriolanus gestured everyone to follow him to a set of floor plans taped to the wall. "This is why I'm having grow lights installed."

Squinting at the floor plans, Mr. Croft asked, "How many grow lights, sir?"

"Enough to cover the whole ceiling."

Mr. Croft's eyes widen as he turned to the president. "The whole ceiling?"

"Yes," chuckled Coriolanus. "Moreover, I'm having the whole room sealed so that we can control the humidity."

"Oh my." Mr. Croft turned back to the floor plans taped on the wall. "What do you plan on growing, Mr. President?"

"Roses."

Mr. Croft looked to the president. "How many?"

"All of them," replied Coriolanus.

"All of them, sir?"

"Yes. As many as this room will hold. I want at least one of every variety." Coriolanus stepped to the nearest window. "I also want to dedicate part of the outdoor garden to roses."

Stepping up to the window, Mr. Croft looked down at the snow-covered fountain that stood center in the garden. "Have you decided which part, Mr. President?"

"The area south of the water fountain. That way, we can let the hedges on the north side grow a little taller."

Staring out the window, the silvered-haired man began gnawing his lip.

"Is there something wrong?" asked Coriolanus.

"That's a lot of work, especially if you want a large number of roses. Even with my part-time summer staff, I must confess that I cannot handle that much additional work, Mr. President."

Coriolanus patted the man on the shoulder. "Don't fret Mr. Croft. I will be assisting with the roses."

The old man eyed the president. "Um..."

"And I give you approval to hire as many full time people as needed."

Mr. Croft's aged spine straightened. "Really?"

"Yes. How many gardeners do you think we need?"

The experienced gardener took a moment to calculate the work in his head. "Um, one, but if you want to fill this room with roses, I'd say two since roses require more work."

"Two it is." Coriolanus turned to his secretary. "Vera, can you begin the hiring process immediately?"

"Yes, sir. I'll start it right away."

The old gardener subtly raised his hand. "Mr. President?"

"Yes."

"My nephew is a gardener in search of extra work; could he—"

"He's hired," interrupted the president. "If you trust him, I trust him. You can hire whomever you want, Mr. Croft."

"Thank you, Mr. President." Glimpsing out the window, the gardener smiled. "The mansion's grounds have needed a change for quite a long time. I look forward to this project."

Pleased with the groundskeeper's reaction, the president smiled with relief. "I will do most of the rose pruning. I find tending to a garden to be relaxing, and the work helps me think; however, if I shall fall behind with my pruning, I may ask you to assist."

Fidgeting, the gardener nodded as he clasped his hands together. "Yes, sir."

Coriolanus took notice of the old man's nervousness. "Don't fret Mr. Croft. If something should go wrong with the roses, I won't become upset. After my daughter and Vera, you're my next favorite person in Panem. I hope to learn from your experience."

"Yes, sir. I was wondering; may I makeover the remaining grounds not dedicated to roses?" asked Mr. Croft.

"Of course," replied the President. "You have free rein over the remaining grounds. This place ultimately belongs to the citizens of Panem. They deserve the best, so let your imagination run wild. I have even been considering opening the grounds to the public one or two days a week, allowing everyone to enjoy the summer garden."

"That would be lovely," commented Vera.

Coriolanus pointed to the white rose in his lapel. "When we get the indoor garden up and running, we will begin with this rose."

Mr. Croft squinted at the flower. "If I'm not mistaken, that's The Devil's Rose. Very rare."

"Yes. This was my late wife's favorite rose."

"Very sharp thorns on that one," said Mr. Croft.

The president paused to look at the rose in his lapel before replying in a low tone, "Yes. And they tend to cut...deeply." Realizing his absent-mindedness, Coriolanus raised his head, taking a deep breath. "Um...after my wife's passing, I took up her gardening to fill the void. I never would have guessed that I'd enjoy it so much. And being a complete novice, I foolishly focused on roses and ended up ruining my jacket lapels before realizing that the thorns could be trimmed. Such a simple task, but I didn't learn until the mistake was made. Such is life." He gently brushed his finger over one of the soft white petals. "When one becomes distracted by beauty, one will succumb to its thorns."

The room fell silent as Coriolanus became lost in thought.

Vera cleared her throat. "Mr. President, the contractors asked if you would like to have this room secured."

Coriolanus shook his head. "Locks won't be necessary. They're just flowers."

"Very good, sir." Vera began tapping a note into her smartphone. "I'll let the contractors know."

With a knock on the doorframe, Ashur Magnus, the aide to the former president, appeared in the open door.

The president gestured the aide to enter.

"Mr. President, you asked to see me?"

"Yes, Mr. Magnus I did." The president turned to the gardener with an extended hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Croft, and I look forward to working with you."

"Thank you, Mr. President. As do I." With a parting nod to everyone in the room, the gardener excused himself.

Once the old man departed, Ashur turned to the president. "I want to thank you for inviting me to attend your inauguration this morning. It was an honor, Mr. President."

"Thank you for attending. We've worked together so much over the years that it only seemed fitting that you be there."

Unable to hide his melancholy, Ashur shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm almost done packing up my office. I should be out by lunch."

With a growing smile, the president clasped his hands behind his back. "Vera, have you filled his position?"

Vera's eyes narrowed. "No, sir. I don't start interviewing potential aides until later this week."

"Good," said Coriolanus. "I would like to offer Mr. Magnus his old job."

Wide eyed, Ashur shifted his eyes to Vera and then to the president. "Sir?"

"Yes, Mr. Magnus. I'm offering you your old job. You served the previous president diligently, and I'm hoping that you could serve me with the same fervor?"

"I could, I mean, I will, Mr. President."

"You have always been blunt with me, and I want you to continue doing so. The last thing I need is a _yes_ man."

Ashur nodded. "I will always be honest and use the utmost discretion."

"Good," replied the president with an outstretched hand. "Welcome to my cabinet."

"Thank you, sir." Asher shook Coriolanus's hand earnestly.

With a raised chin, the president said, "I'll see you at tomorrow's briefing."

"Yes, sir."

Turning to Ashur, Vera forced a smile. "You've got some unpacking to do. Stop by my office this afternoon, and we'll complete the paperwork."

"Will do." Before stepping away, Ashur tapped Vera on the shoulder, much to her chagrin.

Once they were alone, Vera's smile faded as she eyed the president.

"What?" asked Coriolanus, fighting back his smile.

"Why him?" asked Vera. "He has no loyalty towards you."

"True, but he is loyal towards the office of the presidency. That has a value on its own. He's the kind of person who wants to be standing next to greatness. It will be comforting to know he won't be gunning for my job at the next election. He may even be a good source for secrets."

Vera continued to frown. "Or the other way around."

"If you want, I can write a presidential decree declaring that he has to be especially nice and gentlemanly in your presence."

"That won't work. He's a scorpion."

"He's also the gullible frog. He's both creatures rolled up into one," said Coriolanus, tilting his head in thought.

Studying her boss, Vera crossed her arms. "You've been smiling too much. You'll start making people suspicious."

The president shrugged. "Of what?"

"You tell me," replied Vera with a suspicious smile of her own. "Would you like a fresh cup of coffee?"

"Yes, of course." The president offered his arm to Vera and began escorting her towards the door. Crossing the vast open room, he studied the high ceilings. "My wife would have loved this."

"She would have," said Vera. "You could name the new outdoor garden after her."

Coriolanus thought over the suggestion. "No. Don't get me wrong, but I want the name to be connected to happier times. I'm considering naming it _Wonderland Gardens_. I want there to be plenty of places for picnics and reading. Hopefully, Livia will enjoy reading in the summer garden when it's complete."

"I'm sure she will."

Arm in arm, the president walked with Vera down the wide elaborate corridors towards their offices. "I've been so busy. Do you know if Livia likes her new room?"

"She's ecstatic," said Vera with an avid smile. "What 14-year-old wouldn't be if they moved into the president's mansion?"

"I don't know. I'm finding the move a bit overwhelming. I miss our simple apartment." The president sighed. "I guess I'm old and sentimental."

Vera lightly slapped the president's hand. "Hush, you're only 47; you'll make me feel old talking that way."

"Sorry," said Coriolanus with a coy grin. "I just hope Livia doesn't become spoiled living here."

"You've done a fine job raising her," said Vera. "You've raised a considerate and kind young lady.

The president shrugged. "I tried my best. Most of the credit goes to her nanny, Miss Thales."

"Don't make me slap you again. You're a great father. You've made time for her every single day."

"I try," said Coriolanus, patting Vera's hand. "Does Miss Thales like her quarters?"

"Yes," replied Vera. "She says that the room is plenty big enough."

"She only took that small room because it's next to the library. You know, I thought that she was going to cry when she saw all those paper books."

Vera nodded. "I've noticed that Livia has developed an affection for paper books."

"A rub off from her nanny."

"Not completely. I remember you buying her paper books for all her special occasions. You've influenced her just as much, if not more." At a junction, Vera pulled on the Coriolanus's arm to turn the unfamiliar president down the correct corridor.

"Ah, thank you. This mansion is bigger than it looks."

When the pair turned another corner, a Peacekeeper was seen approaching in their direction. The tall man, in his thirties, stepped aside to stand at attention with his back against the wall. As the president and his secretary neared, the guard tugged on the bottom of his crisp uniform, straightening it.

Vera recognized the Peacekeeper to be the mansion's head of security. "Ah, George. You've saved me some trouble."

"Miss?"

"Ashur Magnus will be staying on as the President's aid. Can you make sure that he keeps his security credentials?"

"Yes, miss," replied the Guard. "I'll make sure his credentials are not revoked."

The president noticed the tense muscles in the guard's square jaw. "You seem tensed, George."

"I just want to do my best, Mr. President."

"If I remember correctly, this is your first year as head of security here in the mansion."

"Yes, Mr. President."

Vera released the president's arm and stepped towards the nervous Peacekeeper, placing a hand upon his shoulder. "George here is the youngest officer to ever head security in the president's mansion."

The president's brow arched. "Impressive. How old are you?"

"Thirty seven, Mr. President."

"Have you always served in Capitol security?"

"No, sir. I served twenty years in District 6. When I reenlisted, I earned the right to return to the Capitol, my home."

"You're a Capitol citizen?" asked the president.

"Yes, sir. My father and grandfather were lifelong Peacekeepers. I wanted to follow in their tradition."

Impressed, Coriolanus nodded his approval. "Very good. How did you find District 6? Do you miss it?"

George bit his lip in thought. "District 6 had its ups and downs over the twenty years. I don't miss the winters.

The president offered his hand to the Peacekeeper. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you again George. I can call you George, can't I?"

Shaking the president's hand, the guard broke a faint smile. "Yes, Mr. President."

Vera retook the president's arm into her own. "George what is your last name again?"

"Koukoulopoulos, miss."

The president guffawed. "I'll stick with George." Stepping away, the President hesitated and began pointing to a spot on the Peacekeeper's uniform. When George looked down at it, Coriolanus flicked the guard's nose and smiled. "Try to relax."

"I will, Mr. President," said the blushing Peacekeeper.

"Good. Don't force me to make it an official order," retorted the president with a smirk. "I'm not the type of man who needs to be feared."

Widening his stance, George struggled to relax. "Thank you, sir."

Abandoning the nervous Peacekeeper to his duties, the president eventually found himself back in his office as Vera began preparing a pot of her famous coffee in her adjoining office.

Within minutes, Vera brought the president a fresh cup of coffee and a sheet of paper, setting both upon his desk. "I have your schedule. I've kept your agenda light for the first couple days so you can become acquainted to the mansion and daily briefings."

Coriolanus sipped his coffee and smiled. "Thank you, Vera."

Vera took a seat in one of the guest's chair, but remained silent.

Taking a second sip of coffee, Coriolanus noticed his secretary's concerned look. "What?"

"Something's bugging you?"

Sitting back into his chair, Coriolanus silently admired his secretary's observational skills. With a relenting sigh, he asked, "Should I dye my hair?"

Vera eyed him. "What brought this on?"

"The Peacekeepers all look so young. They look like children. Even George."

Crossing her legs, Vera cupped her hands over a knee. "You are as handsome as ever."

Gesturing to his face, Coriolanus frowned. "But the gray hairs."

"They're not gray," commented Vera. "They're white, and they only pepper your scalp and beard. I like it. It says that you have experience."

Coriolanus sighed. "I suppose my head will be completely white by the time I finish my first term. What will that say?"

Vera smiled at the vain man. "That you're wise beyond your years."

"If you say it, it must be true. If I've learned anything over the past decade, it's to never doubt you." Coriolanus sipped his coffee. "How are your assistant secretaries working out?"

"Good. We've worked together in the past, so it's like old times for all of us."

"Good," replied Snow. "Did you give yourself a raise? Something worthy for the personal assistant to the president."

"I did. Thank you, sir."

"Do I want to know how much?"

Vera shook her head, smiling.

The president chuckled. "Whatever it is, it's not enough."

"You're too kind." Vera pulled out her smartphone and glanced at the screen. Lunch will be ready in about an hour. I asked the chef to prepare your favorite dish for dinner, which will be served in the dining room. Your daughter and Miss Thales will be joining you. I've also arranged a sumptuous dessert to celebrate your first day."

"Won't you be joining us?"

Vera stood from the guest chair. "No. To celebrate _our_ first day, we secretaries are going out for drinks."

"Ah. Very good," commented President Snow. "I hope all of you have fun."

"We will." The secretary turned to leave.

Coriolanus raised his hand. "Vera?"

"Yes?" Miss Fiducia paused in the doorway.

"What is my favorite dish?"

"Steak of course." With an impish smile, Vera slipped back into her office.

_Steak? _he thought, sipping his coffee._ Good to know._


	2. Dessert

**11 Dessert**

President Snow entered the dining room to find his daughter and her nanny already seated.

"Hi, father."

"Father?" Coriolanus paused near his daughter. "What happened to daddy?"

Livia shrugged. "Now that I'm the First Daughter. I should speak more proper—properly."

"Nonsense." The president bent over and kissed his daughter on the forehead. "Just be yourself, sweetie." The president greeted the nanny with a warm smile. "Hello, Mary. Is this modification in grammar your doing?"

"No. I don't know how she got this silly notion in her head."

"My friends say the press will always be watching me, waiting for me to make the simplest mistake."

Coriolanus put a comforting arm around his daughter. "Don't worry. There is an unwritten rule that the president's family is off limits. They won't attack or try to embarrass you. It's me they're after."

"If you're sure." Livia gripped her father's hand. "I like daddy more anyway."

Coriolanus smiled. "Me too."

When the president approached the head of the table, a young woman dressed in simple white tunic rushed up and assisted with the chair. The young woman proceeded to fill his water glass just as a young man, dressed in the same attire, entered the dining room from the service kitchen with a tray of prepared salads.

Gnawing her lip, Livia nervously watched the young man travel around the table as he distributed the salads. "Daddy?"

"Yes, dear."

"Are our servers Avoxes?" asked Livia.

The president glanced at the young woman standing in the corner with her head bowed. "Yes."

Livia laid her napkin across her lap. "Do we have to have Avox servers?"

"Why? What's wrong with Avox servers?" Coriolanus began applying a generous amount of dressing to his salad.

"I don't know. It doesn't feel right."

"For their crimes, they've been given life sentences of servitude. You know that."

"Ya. But..."

"My dear, you'll have to get use to it. There are many Avoxes serving this vast mansion, keeping the building clean and functioning. You will see them every day.

"It just feels weird."

The president gestured towards the male Avox. "If you don't like Avox servers, I can have them sent to work in the sewers."

"No." Livia's lips pursed as she reached for her water glass. "That would be worse."

When the president's daughter set her empty water glass on the table, the female Avox promptly refilled it.

Livia turned towards the young girl and said, "Thank you."

The Avox's eyes widened as she froze where she stood. Keeping her focus down, she nodded and stepped backward from the table.

The nanny gently touched Livia's arm. "Don't provoke your father."

"That's alright, Mary. I'm quite proud of the fact that my daughter shows respect to everyone. It's more than what I can say for myself." Coriolanus looked warmly at his daughter.

A sharp dressed, middle-aged man with a pencil thin mustache entered from the service kitchen. "Good evening, Mr. President."

"Hello, Alfred."

"How has dinner been so far?" asked the excited man.

"Good." The president wiped his mouth. "Have you met my daughter, Livia, and her nanny, Miss Mary Thales?"

"No." The man bowed to the two ladies. "It's a pleasure to meet you. If you have any concerns with the mansion, from the softness of your bed, to the soap used for your laundry, please, let me know. I'm in charge of living operations here in the mansion. No request is too small, and our kitchen is staffed 24 hours a day, so don't hesitate to contact me for anything."

Livia forced down her bite of salad. "Okay. Thank you."

The male Avox entered the dining room with a large tray of food. As the female Avox removed the salads, the male set down the main courses.

Alfred clasped his hands behind his back. "We prepared the two steaks as mediums per your secretary's instructions."

Livia quickly scanned the table. "May I have steak sauce?"

"Yes of course, miss." Alfred snapped his fingers and the female Avox promptly headed into the service kitchen. "Miss Thales, is the chicken to your liking?"

Having just taken her first bite, the nanny moaned in delight, "It's perfect."

"We send out the day's menu each morning. If you ever want to make a change to a menu item, just send us a quick message."

The female Avox returned with the steak sauce and set it on the table before the president's daughter.

Livia smiled at the girl and again said, "Thank you."

Alfred forced a smile. "You don't have to thank the Avoxes, miss."

"I know."

Chewing on his steak, the president mumbled, "My daughter is a humanitarian."

"Daddy, I prefer to call myself a humanist."

"Um...what's the difference?" asked Alfred.

"I like to study people," said Livia. "I just don't want to make a big fuss if it."

"I see," commented a confused Alfred. "Well, the world can never have enough of either."

"I agree," said Livia, shoving a piece of steak drenched in sauce into her mouth.

"Normally I don't interrupt your meals, but I wanted to make sure that I introduced myself to everyone on this first momentous day."

Miss Thales turned in her chair. "Thank you, Alfred. I'm already feeling spoiled." Leaning over, Mary touched the president's arm. "And thank you, Mr. President. I never once imagined that I'd be living in the president's mansion."

Coriolanus patted nanny's hand. "Miss Thales, Livia and I could not manage without you. We could not ask for a better nanny and teacher."

Blushing, Mary returned to her chicken.

"You're a teacher too, miss?" inquired Alfred.

Mary nodded. "Yes. I tutor Livia with her homework."

"Daddy," interrupted Livia. "May my friends sleep over Friday?"

"Sure," replied Coriolanus. "Just give your friend's names and contact information to George so he can pre-screen them for security."

"Okay. Thanks, daddy."

Alfred took a step towards Livia. "Miss, I can have guest beds setup in your room. How many will you need?"

"Just two."

"Very good, miss. I'll make sure two extra beds are setup in your room Friday afternoon."

The male Avox entered from the service kitchen and began setting a small desert ramekin near each occupant at the table.

Coriolanus studied the desert. "Is that chocolate pudding?"

"Not quite, sir," replied Alfred. "I believe it's a double chocolate mousse. One of the chef's specialties."

"Oh," replied the president with a furled brow.

"Is there something wrong, sir? I'm sure the chef has something else he could send up."

"No," said Coriolanus. "I like chocolate, but would you call that dessert _sumptuous_?"

A worried look came to Alfred. "Um...I'm not sure, sir."

Livia dabbed her fork into the desert for a quick taste. "It's wonderful. What's the difference between mousse and pudding?"

"Mousse is whipped," said the nanny, "making it lighter than pudding." Mary turned to the president. "When I think of sumptuous, I think cheesecake."

"Or a big bowl of cookie dough ice cream," commented Livia, returning to her steak.

"Did my secretary request a mousse?" asked the president.

"I don't believe so," replied Alfred. "She only told me that you would like steak for tonight and that Miss Thales prefers chicken over beef. Shall I check with the kitchen, Mr. President?"

"No. I was just curious. Everything is perfect. I'm certain that I'll enjoy the mousse."

"Thank you, Mr. President. I'll make a note that cheesecake, and cookie dough ice cream is added to future menus. Do you have a favorite dessert, sir?"

"Cinnamon rolls. The big fluffy kind."

"Very good, sir. If I'm not mistaken, the chef does make a sumptuous cinnamon roll."

Livia raised a hand. "Wouldn't large rolls be bountiful or scrumptious? Now that I think about it, ice cream would be more savory than sumptuous."

Mary pointed to Livia's dinner. "Steak is savory, not ice cream. Ice cream is tantalizing."

"What about fresh strawberries topped with vanilla bean crème fraîche?"

"Ambrosial," replied Mary with a smile.

"Strawberry flambé?" continued Livia.

"Expensive," interrupted the president. "I'm sorry I asked. Please give my compliments to the chef."

"Very good, sir. The chef will be pleased to know that his work is appreciated. Enjoy your dinner, everyone." Alfred bowed and exited to the service kitchen, leaving the two Avoxes to attend dinner.

When finished with his steak, Coriolanus slid the ramekin of double chocolate mousse closer. Sampling it, he found it exceptional, but not sumptuous.

"Daddy?"

"Yes," said Coriolanus, looking up from his dessert.

"Can we do something about my bodyguards at school? There are too many, and they intimidate my classmates."

"I'm sorry, darling, but my position puts you in danger."

Crossing her arms, Livia fell back against her chair. "No one at school is going to attack me. If you can't reduce the number to one, can we at least move them out of sight?"

"I'll ask if they can make their presence less felt," replied Coriolanus. "You could stay here and be home schooled by Mary."

"Daddy? I like going to school. My friends are there."

Mary pushed her finished dessert aside. "It's good that Livia socializes with her friends at school, Mr. President. It helps reinforce good manners and public behavior."

"See," said Livia, sticking out her tongue.

Coriolanus smiled. "Fine. But if school ever makes you feel uncomfortable, let me know."

"I'll be okay, daddy." Livia began gnawing her lip as she played with the food remnants on her dinner plate. "It doesn't even bother me that some of my classmates claim you cheated at the last debate."

Sitting back, the president revealed a faint smile. "Let me guess, they think I poisoned my opponent before the debate. I've heard all the rumors."

"My classmates are just teasing me, but that is what they are saying."

"It has been confirmed that my opponent's wife accidentally gave him a double dose of a diuretic before the debate when he asked for two painkillers to treat a headache. They even confirmed the accident when they inspected her pillbox. It's not good to mix your medicine into one container, especially when all the pills look similar."

"That's what I tell everybody." Livia crossed her arms. "So you see; I can take care of myself at school. You and the bodyguards don't have to worry."

Mary set her emptied water glass on the table. When the female Avox approached to refill it, Mary waved her off. "I thought it commendable that you never once made fun of the man when he left the stage to use the bathroom those two times."

"Three times," corrected Snow. "He had to urinate three times during the debate. The call to nature is a powerful one." Coriolanus failed to restrain his smile.

Mary joined him in that smile. "See. You never once smiled or laughed at his suffering when you were on television. That's why you won by a landslide."

Snow shrugged. "I already had a lead going into the debate. I suppose not taking advantage of my opponent increased it a bit."

Livia stood from her chair. "May I be excused, daddy?"

"Yes, of course." Coriolanus prepared to stand. "I'm heading to my indoor garden to see how the work is progressing. They started on the plumbing and drainage systems this afternoon."

"I'm going to my room to call my friends," said Livia cheerfully. "Good night, Mary."

The nanny rose from her chair. "Good night, Livia."

Once Livia departed, Mary turned to Coriolanus. "Thank you again, Mr. President for inviting me into your home when I know you don't have to. It has been an honor teaching your daughter over the years."

"Mary, you can continue to call me Coriolanus."

"I know, but being in the president's mansion, I feel that I should remain formal in front of others.

Coriolanus offered Mary his hand. "Well, you don't need be. You are pretty much family. And I know Livia would be heartbroken had you not joined us."

"As would I. I'm glad that I can be here anytime Livia needs me. My door is always open to her." The nanny squeezed the president's hand. "As it is to you."

Coriolanus slowly released his grip, letting the nanny's hand fall away. "Thank you again, Mary."

Mary nodded with a fading smile. Taking a step backward, she said, "I'm off to the library. Have you had time to peruse the books?"

"No."

"They have all the classics. I don't know if I'll have time to read them all."

The president smiled. "I hope you get a chance to do so."

Pausing at the door, Mary stared warmly at the president. "Good night, Mr. President."

"Good night, Mary."

Coriolanus next went to his indoor garden and observed the work that had been done that afternoon. Taking a seat on a workbench, he imagined what roses would go where, planning in his head their planting order once the room was complete. Closing his eyes, his brain envisioned the bountiful scent that he projected his garden would produce.

Afterwards, Coriolanus headed for his bedroom for some leisurely reading of his own. When he turned the final corner, he found the head of security posted before his door.

When the president neared, George gave a polite nod before stepping aside. "Mr. President."

"Evening, George. Do you normally guard my door?"

"No, sir. I'm here on orders from Miss Fiducia."

Coriolanus's brow furled. "Why would my secretary order you to guard my door?"

George shifted his weight nervously before clearing his throat. "Um...Miss Fiducia asked me to pick up your _dessert_—her words, not mine—and deliver it to your room.

Confused, the president stared at the Peacekeeper.

Beginning to blush, George nodded towards the door.

The president opened the door just enough to peer inside.

Dressed in white lace lingerie, a woman in her mid thirties lay atop the president's bed, reading from a computer tablet. Her curly long brunette hair had been put up into a loose bun with stray bangs hanging from the sides. The woman glanced over her reading glasses towards the door and smiled.

Feeling his own face blush, the president closed the door slowly and turned to George. "I see. She's actually my therapist."

"Very good, sir. I gave the lady my direct number. She can contact me at anytime, and I will personally see that she arrives home safely with the utmost discretion."

"Ah thank you, George. My therapist usually sees to me twice a month."

"Very good, Sir. I will personally handle all her transportation needs." The Peacekeeper began to step away. "Good night, Mr. President."

"Good night, George." Coriolanus paused at the door. "George?"

The Peacekeeper turned around. "Sir?"

"This isn't a security risk, is it? This certainly has happened before."

"I can't say, sir. You are the first president I've served. The last head of security retired with the last president."

Coriolanus nodded. "Yes, of course."

Placing his hands behind his back, George's voice softened. "_Therapists_ aren't new to me, sir. One doesn't serve 20 years as a Peacekeeper and not need a therapist oneself."

Coriolanus smiled. "I'm grateful for your understanding." He pointed over his shoulder towards the door. "She's a special therapist. Um...I mean she's a special person in my life. If she should ever request anything from you, consider it a request from me."

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"Thank you, George. Good night."

"Good night, Mr. President."

Once George turned to depart, Coriolanus swiftly entered his room and closed the door. His smile grew. "You must be the _sumptuous dessert _that Vera promised me_._"

"Am I?" replied Julia. "I always considered myself the main course."

Coriolanus sat on the edge of the bed. "Why the reading glasses? I thought you had your eyes fixed."

"I did, but I thought you liked the naughty librarian look?"

"I do." He ran a finger over some lace. "I don't recall ever seeing a librarian dressed quite like this."

Julia set the computer tablet, along with her fake reading glasses, onto the nightstand before rolling onto her side. "I bought this outfit to celebrate inauguration day. Does it look presidential?"

"You've always looked presidential, even when I was a mere senator. I looked up to you then; I look up to you now."

Gripping his tie, Julia pulled Coriolanus towards her for a long kiss. Slowly, she rolled onto her back, pulling the president with her.

With a moan, Coriolanus fell into her arms. He laid his head upon her chest and closed his eyes. "I've missed you so much."

Julia stroked his hair. "It has been almost two months."

"Feels like two years. It was impossible to slip away with the press and my opponents watching me. I take it that Vera arranged tonight's meeting."

"Yes," replied Julia. "She's certain that George can be trusted. Plus, the car he drove has tinted windows and is indistinguishable from the other governmental cars."

Coriolanus hugged her tighter. "I hate to bring up the matter, but I'm not allowed to carry money anymore. They say money is beneath a president."

"Vera took care of that too."

"Ah, good. I'm in her debt." The president raised his head for a quick kiss. "As I am to you. Your diuretic idea worked like a charm. Nothing like a little insurance before an election.

Julia smiled. "Thank goodness for electronic medical records."

"Did you watch?" asked Snow.

"I did. I began to worry that we over did it, that he'd draw sympathy votes with each dash to the bathroom. If it wasn't for your tact, it could have gone the other way."

The president's fingers began exploring Julia's exposed skin. "My heart wants to jump out of my chest. Can you feel it beating?"

"Yes."

"You're a trained pharmacist, what is making my heart race?"

"I don't know. Not every question has an answer." Julia took the president's hand and slid it over her own heart. "Whatever it is, I'm affected too."

The president slowly pulled his hand away to a small white bow located between her breasts. Pulling one of the strings, he untied part of the bow.

Gnawing her lip, Julia pulled on the other end of the bow, loosening her lingerie. "Coriolanus, as your therapist, I think it's time we consummate your presidency."

The speechless man nodded and became lost in her kiss.


	3. Seeds

**12 Seeds**

Over the deafening cheers of the audience, the anthem of Panem began to play. A man wearing headphones gestured to the president and Livia to begin ascending the steps.

Dressed in fine evening attire, Coriolanus gripped his daughter's hand to steady her. "Ready?"

Dressed in an elegant evening gown, Livia nodded with a big smile. "Yes, daddy."

Together they climbed the steps. When the stage lights shone in their faces, the pair squinted as they reached the stage. Pausing in the bright lights, father and daughter stood at the edge of the stage and waved to the enthusiastic crowd.

With his eyes adjusting, the president spotted a young woman at center stage and began to approach her.

Livia followed her father as she positioned both hands under the cushion holding the victor's crown.

Coriolanus stopped next to the victor and gave a slight bow to the roaring crowd. He next turned to face the 15-year-old victor and said loudly over the din, "Congratulation, young lady."

The girl continued to look forward, as if the president was invisible. Her face was ashen despite the makeup, and her eyes shifted rapidly, searching for dangers unseen.

Assuming that the roar of the crowd was drowning out his voice, the president carried on with the ceremony and took the crown from his daughter. He held up the simple gold crown for everyone to see and then proceeded to place it upon Wiress's head.

When the crown touched the young girl's head, her eyes snapped into focus. She looked into the president's eyes and gasped. Eyes widening, her body faintly began to tremble.

Returning her stare, Coriolanus saw more than just a frightened child; he believed that he was looking into the eyes of a transformed soul. He became lost in her frightened stare, as if looking into a shallow pond, unable to see the bottom through the murkiness.

Caesar Flickerman, the young, enthusiastic host of the Hunger Games, waved on the crowd to frolic cheers as he floated across the stage to the other side of the victor. Raising his arms, Caesar gestured the crowd to quiet with the skill of a symphony conductor. Clasping his hands together, he turned to Coriolanus, and bowed. "Mr. President, we could not have asked for a more exciting Hunger Games during your first year in office. I hope you found this year's games just as exciting?"

"Very much so," replied President Snow as he took a step back from the victor. "It was a pleasure to watch this young lady of great insight and intelligence out think her competitors, proving to all that brawn alone won't win you the victor's crown."

"Indeed, Mr. President," said Caesar enthusiastically. Looking to the crowd, the exuberant host extended a hand over the victor. "Ladies and gentlemen of Panem, I give you Wiress, the victor of the Forty-eighth Hunger Games!"

As Caesar applauded and the boisterous crowd rose to their feet, the president turned his head to find Wiress staring peculiarly at him. He felt perplexed by the fear in her eyes and wondered what she was seeing.

Coriolanus returned to the president's mansion to ceremonially open his first Victory Banquet. Having the stressful television broadcast behind him, he found himself famished and took a seat at the president's table for a bite to eat.

Ashur Magnus approached the table. "Evening, Mr. President."

"Hello, Ashur. Please join me."

The aide joined the president at the table and began pouring himself a glass of water. "The crowning ceremony went well. Did Livia have fun?"

"She did, very much so. Livia says that she doesn't like dressing up formally for functions, but she couldn't stop looking at herself in the mirror." Coriolanus bit into a bread roll. "I think she's upstairs now trying on the other dresses with her friends."

"Is our victor as damaged as she appears on television?"

The president shrugged. "They are all damaged in one way or another."

"Caesar Flickerman certainly can perform magic. No matter how messed up or uncooperative the kids are, he keeps things flowing."

"Did I look nervous?" asked the President.

The aide shook his head. "Were you?"

"A little." Snow smiled. "I grew up watching the Hunger Games. I was born the year they started. To find myself on stage, crowning a victor, was more unnerving that becoming president."

Turning in his chair, Ashur looked across the room at the unenthusiastic Wiress as she was having her picture taken with sponsor. "Something tells me that she's no longer part of our world," he turned back to the president, "and never again will be."

The president set down his wine glass. "You're probably right. Her family back in District 3 have been told that she will need round the clock supervision, that they should hire a psychiatric nurse. With her victor's winnings, they should have no trouble caring for her."

"Pity," commented Ashur. "She was so charming and articulate before the games."

The president's eyes sharpened as he stared across the room at the victor. "Well, that's the price of district treason."

The night progressed as each of Wiress's sponsors took their turn to meet and congratulate the victor. Most were unsure if Wiress was even cognitive of their meeting, but they commented nonetheless about how much they enjoyed watching her out think her opponents, pointing out how clever it was of her to trick the half-dozen Career tributes into killing one another.

In the arena, the Career tributes normally waited until the 18 other tributes had been hunted down and killed before turning on one another, but Wiress always had the ability of understanding how machines worked. Wittingly, she could predict the outcomes of various scenarios in her head well before they happened. And to Wiress, humans were just another machine, biological in construction.

A stolen piece of food here, a hush in the dark there, even tampering with their bedding while the Careers were out hunting her took their toll on the Career alliance. Methodically, Wiress moved like a ghost through the shadows poking and prodding the Career machine, seeding mistrust, until it self-destructed in violence.

When the boy tribute from District 1 became her last obstacle, she led him on a chase, straight into a trap. Blinded by rage, the boy fell into a tar pit that Wiress had covered with dry grass, but Wiress knew that the tar would not be enough; she knew he would be strong and smart enough to struggle free.

As the boy gathered his senses, Wiress pulled out an improvised flare, made from the crystallized potassium nitrate collected from a cave wall and sawdust created with the serrated edge of her knife. The two ingredients were combined together inside a rolled up map, capped by a special flint sent from her sponsors.

Wiress ignited the impromptu device and tossed it into the tar next to the boy. Flames instantly set the tar pit ablaze, consuming the boy.

What the genius girl did not foresee was the various veins of tar that ran unseen through the dry summer grass. The same fire that saved her, now held her captive. Wiress searched for an escape, but the heat was too intense in every direction. She had no choice but to remain where she stood, safe on solid ground.

The screams of the boy ceased after several agonizing seconds and a cannon boomed, singling his death; however, Wiress remained trapped as the flames did not die down. Covering her face with her sleeve, the stench of burnt flesh forced its way into her nose, causing her to gag as the dead boy's screams continued to ring in her ears. Forced to wait for a hovercraft to lift her from the arena, her brilliant intellectual machine began to malfunction.

At the main banquet table, the president sat in the chair next to Wiress, apparently unnoticed by the girl. Coriolanus studied her profile as she continued to sit unmoving, staring into a void. He waved a hand before her face to no response. Snapping a finger near her ear, he gave the girl a start. He smiled apologetically. "Hello, Wiress."

The young girl stared at the president wide eyed as she gripped the edge of her chair.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you." The president licked his lips. "But I was hoping that you would permit me one question before I retire for the night."

The frightened girl remained frozen, her wide eyes staring back at the president.

"Despite your scars, I'm assuming by the way you look at me that you still have your genius insight. What about me gives you such terror?"

Her jaw quivering, Wiress opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.

Coriolanus reached for her hand and caressed it. "I promise you no harm. You can be completely honest, no matter how negative you think your words may be. Be truthful, you have nothing to fear from me." He felt the young girl pull her hand away. He patiently clasped his hands together upon his lap and leaned against the back of his chair. "What do you see?"

"Evil," said Wiress with a weak voice.

Tilting his head ever so slightly to the side, Coriolanus's brow furled. "I don't see myself as evil. I just want to serve Panem the best I can."

"You're not evil yet," continued Wiress, "but it's in you. You allowed it in, and now the seed has taken root in your heart. It will grow like a cancer until it consumes you."

As various memories of past deeds raced through his head, Coriolanus slowly straightened in his chair, taking a deep breath. As each deed came to mind, he weighed it and wondered if what he had done had been evil. Some deeds were political, causing no physical harm. Some deeds were spiteful, traits of human nature. Maybe, the evil that seeded itself within was from what he did not do. His dead wife would certainly attest to that. Or perhaps, it was when he realized how far he would actually go to protect Panem. He had yet crossed that line, but accepting the fact that he could, might have been enough to condemn him.

The president stood, forced a smile, and bowed to the young girl. "Thank you, Wiress."

Without a word to anyone else, Coriolanus slipped away from the banquet to the sanctuary of his indoor garden.

Long after the party had ended, the president was discovered tending to his indoor garden by his secretary. As her high heels announced her presence on the garden tiled floor, Coriolanus turned to look at her. "Ah, Vera, has the banquet ended?"

"Yes, sir."

"Were there any problems?"

"No, sir."

"Good." Coriolanus took a seat on a work stool and removed his gardening gloves before reaching for a bottle of drinking water.

Vera took a seat on a nearby stool. "I noticed that you left somewhat early, Mr. President."

"I wasn't in the mood to be social today."

Straightening a wrinkle in her dress, Vera asked, "Did you get a chance to talk to the victor?"

"I did. Charming girl," commented the president. "It's a shame that she was so deeply scarred."

"You don't seem as enthused as before. I thought you liked meeting the victors."

"I do," affirmed Coriolanus, nodding. "Maybe being president changes things. It was different this time, meeting this District 3 girl."

"Wasn't she your favorite from the beginning?" asked Vera. "_Brains over brawn_, as you like to put it."

The president smiled. "Yes. She was. She still is."

Vera glanced briefly at some nearby roses, touching their petals. "Normally, I never get swept up into the Hunger Games, but I have to admit that I was riveted this year. She gave a lot of people hope."

"Hope in what?"

Vera shrugged. "Hope that anyone can overcome anything."

The president's smile faded slowly. "Vera, would you label hope as good or evil?"

One of Vera's brows rose as she studied her boss. "Good, of course."

"Is it? Researching hawthorn trees, I learned that the ancient Greeks regarded the tree as an emblem of hope. However, the Greeks were cautious when it came to hope since many also saw hope as being false, to be avoided."

Vera crossed her arms. "False hope isn't evil if it helps people to not give up."

"Even when they are destined to fail?" asked Coriolanus.

"Yes," said Vera, smirking. "Giving up is failure, not succeeding is just an end result."

"The Greeks thought it best to accept one's fate, to not be misguided and waste one's time."

"Is that why the Romans so easily conquered them?"

The president chuckled. "Perhaps." The president picked a nearby blossoming rose. "I have to side with the Greek philosophers: hope is a blessing and a curse. Unchecked, it could lead to wasteful desires, costing one everything in the pursuit of the unattainable."

Accepting the rose from the president, Vera smiled as she sniffed it. "Are you unhappy that Wiress won?"

"No. I'm glad that she became victor. But being the president, all this reminds me that I need to be cautious with hope, whenever and wherever it should sprout up."

Vera slid off her stool. "I think you just need some sleep. It's been a long day."

Smiling, the president sighed in agreement. "Yes it has."

"It's almost morning; I'm heading off for home. Is there anything I can do for you before I go, Mr. President?"

"I'm good. Thank you, Vera."

Sniffing her flower, Vera gave Coriolanus a parting smile. "Thank you for the rose. Good night, Mr. President."

Coriolanus remained on his stool and became lost in thought, his mind returning to Wiress's comments. After some reflection, he slid off his stool and moved to the back of the indoor garden.

In the corner, various pots of plastic and ceramic designs were stacked carefully for storage. Picking a strong plastic pot, the width of his chest, Coriolanus carried it to a workbench located along the back wall.

He proceeded to fill the pot with potting soil, stopping when the pot was half filled. Removing a set of keys from his pocket, he next moved to a nearby storage cabinet and unlocked the door. Coriolanus carefully removed a small urn tucked away in the upper corner.

He returned to the pot and opened the urn. His face saddened and gray, he stared briefly at his wife's ashes before emptying the urn into the pot. Using a garden trowel, he added more potting soil and mixed the contents.

Coriolanus next moved to a plastic organizer box at the end of the workbench. Squinting at the handwritten drawer labels, he began shuffling through one drawer until he found a specific envelope of seeds.

Returning to the pot, he fetched his bottled water and a small bowl. Filling the small bowl with water, he next tore open the envelope and poured the seeds into the water. Using his fingers, Coriolanus tossed the unusable floating seeds and retrieved the viable ones that had sunk to the bottom.

Amongst his wife's ashes, the president began planting the good seeds, spacing them evenly apart in the large pot before a last, thin layer of soil was added. With the seeding complete, he transferred the pot onto a trolley.

Outside in the summer morning air, Coriolanus wheeled the pot to a large garden concrete storage shed where the seeds would remain cool and moist until the most prominent saplings presented themselves. A few months from now, Coriolanus would return to collect the pot and return it to the indoor garden where he would transfer the smaller seedlings to individual pots. The largest seedling, his wife's tree, would remain in the large pot to grow freely under the abundant grow lights. Here, the hawthorn tree would remain until it was time to be permanently planted.

At which time, Coriolanus hoped that he would find a way to overcome the darkness seeded in his heart.


	4. Secrets

**13 Secrets**

Coriolanus glanced up from his breakfast to find his daughter frowning at a spoonful of oatmeal. "Livia, you're awfully quiet this morning." Expecting a melodramatic response, he reached for his coffee.

"Am I?" replied Livia in a sharpened tone. "Gee. I don't know why." She dropped her spoon into the bowl. "Who would have thought that turning 16 would suck this bad."

Mary closed her book and gently set it down on the table. "Not this again. Livia, you heard what your father said last night." The nanny gripped her napkin and began dabbing her mouth. "Let it go."

"But all my friends are driving. I'm the only one without a driver's license."

Setting down his coffee cup, Coriolanus straightened in his chair. "Even if you could, it would be too dangerous, you being the First Daughter."

"Daddy, I'm not in danger. I've been the president's daughter for two years now. Nothing has happened to me. They don't even tease me at school. I'm safe. I'll be a careful driver. Hell, my body guards can sit in the back seat."

"Livia!" chided Mary. "Watch your language. You don't speak like this at the breakfast table."

Coriolanus returned to his eggs. "That's all right, Miss Thales. I suspect there is an abundance of sixteen-year-old hormones overwhelming her senses this morning."

Crossing her arms, Livia slouched in her chair and began to sulk.

Reaching for the salt and pepper, Coriolanus could feel his daughter's eyes cutting into him. He swallowed his eggs. "That's not going to work, Livia."

"What's not going to work, _father?"_

Coriolanus sighed. "Your inexplicable ability to pout disapprovingly and pleaded with your eyes at the same time. It's not going to work. You'll just have to continue using the limousine." He smiled. "I hope it's not too unbearable."

Screaming through gritted teeth, Livia burst from her chair, storming out of the dining room without a parting word.

Mary stood to follow. "I'll go talk to her, Mr. President."

Coriolanus continued to smile. "I'm sure she's fine."

"I still want to check in on her. I'll make sure she understands that you only mean to keep her safe."

"Even if I wanted to let her drive, I'm sure security would be dead against it."

Mary placed a hand on Coriolanus's shoulder. "What would your response be if _I_ asked you to allow her to drive? I'd supervise her and make sure she drives responsibly."

The president focused on his breakfast. "I'd prefer that you did not ask."

"Well, I am asking. Coriolanus?" Mary waited for him to look at her. "It's important to your daughter. Even if it's just to go joy riding with security following closely behind. I think you should do it."

Thoughts of his youth came rushing back as Coriolanus was reminded that his presidency was sacrificing pieces of his daughter's childhood. He knew that Livia would not be able to experience her adolescent years like other teenagers. With his face reddening, he nodded. "Okay. If you think I should."

Mary squeezed his shoulder. "Thank you. Do you want to tell her?"

"No. You can tell her. Say that it is part of her birthday present."

"Okay." Smiling, Mary pushed in her chair.

"You don't mind riding with her during the learning permit?"

"No. I love to drive. Don't you?"

"No." Coriolanus sipped his coffee. "Never did. My father had me learn, but when I went off to college, I let my license expire."

"I should run and catch Livia before she goes off to school." The nanny began stepping backwards towards the door. "Thank you again, Mr. President. Have a wonderful day."

"You too, Mary."

Returning to his coffee, Coriolanus smiled as he thought, _Thank goodness no one saw the President of Panem cave in to his daughter's nanny._

But, there were witnesses. His smiled vanished as his head spun around to look at the two Avoxes standing against the wall with heads bowed.

Chewing on a piece of toast, Coriolanus contemplated what other secrets the presidential Avoxes had locked up in their heads. He understood well enough that these Avoxes were not just one-dimensional, tongueless convicts serving life sentences. A realization made him smile._ So, that's why the previous president took his Avoxes with him when he retired to the countryside._

Slowly, he pushed his plate away. "I'm done with my breakfast." When the female Avox, collected the plate, Coriolanus looked at her and said, "Thank you."

The girl did not become as startled as when Livia first thanked her two years ago, but the first act of courtesy from the president gave her a hesitant pause. She smiled, bowed, and then departed to the service kitchen.

Coriolanus sipped his coffee, wondering how often secrets fell upon disinterested ears. Eventually, his eyes drifted upon Mary's forgotten book. He picked it up to discover a copy of _Jane Eyre. _Running his fingers over the embossed lettering of the leather bond binding, he opened the book and began reading.

**...**

Around the conference table, the various ministers and aides were preparing to leave when Head Gamemaker Titus raised his hand. "Mr. President?"

"Yes, Titus"

"We need to start preparing for the Quarter Quell."

"Haven't you been preparing for it for quite some time now?"

"Yes, sir, but we need to know what the authors of the Treaty of Treason have written in particular for the 50th Hunger Games so that we can select an arena and make any needed adjustments."

Confused, the president stared at Titus.

"Mr. President, you possess the box with all the instructional cards."

"I do?" Coriolanus turned to Vera at his side.

Vera shrugged. "News to me, Mr. President."

Titus cleared his throat. "They are kept in the presidential vault downstairs. Only the sitting president has access to them.

The president's brow arched with curiosity. "This is the first I've heard of this."

Ashur Magnus quickly glanced around the table and said, "Sorry, Mr. President. I should have told you. Our last president held office so long that we took it for granted and assumed that you already knew."

Rising to his feet, the president smiled as he buttoned his jacket. "Not a problem. This is actually a nice surprise. Titus, you and I can go and collect the card."

"Only you are allowed into the presidential vault, sir."

"Oh." Coriolanus shrugged. "I'll fetch it and tell you what it says over the phone."

"Very good, sir."

With his curiosity piqued, Coriolanus proceeded from the cabinet meeting straight to the vault below the president's mansion.

At the bottom of the steps, a Peacekeeper rose from a chair positioned by a large metal door. Without a word, the guard proceeded to unlock and open the door.

Coriolanus entered the room and heard the door close behind him. Turning around, he found himself alone. He began inspecting the room, discovering various boxes stacked securely along one side of the room with lock boxes like those found in a bank along the other.

"Okay. Now what?" he asked himself with a sigh.

In the far back room, a small red light on the wall grabbed his attention. The president ventured closer to discover a retina scanner next to a solid metal door. The scanner reminded Coriolanus of inauguration day when the head of defense scanned his eyes and lightheartedly told him that the window to his soul was now the key to all of Panem.

Coriolanus walked up to the scanner and after a quick inspection, looked into an eyepiece. The red light turned green and a loud click sounded deep within the door. Pulling on the door handle, it opened and a light automatically turned on, revealing a small room.

Entering, the president found three blank gray steel walls and a plain wooden desk with a simple chair. On the desk sat a small wooden box next to a vanilla folder. Lifting open the folder, Coriolanus began reading a hand written sheet of paper that started with the words _Dear Mr. President._

Coriolanus sat down and pulled the vanilla folder closer to read:

_In the box before you, you will find various cards and envelopes. One of these cards is to be used every quarter of a century to help remind the country the price selfish decent. We have prefilled some of the cards with various scenarios. It is at your discretion to select the card most fitting for the current state of Panem. We know all too well the fragility of the nation since civilizations can fluctuate between good times and bad. Not only were the Hunger Games created to keep Panem united, the games are a tool to help rule. Included in the box are several blank cards to be used for scenarios we cannot foresee in the future. Like any tool, use these cards wisely._

The president reached for the small wooden box and opened it. From the front, he removed the card used to announce the first quarter quell, when Snow was 24-years-old. The card read:

_As a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district will be made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it._

Coriolanus flipped the card over to find the signature of the president who had used it. He next pulled out all the cards and began reading various Hunger Games scenarios. To his surprise, some of the cards proposed sending only one child from every district instead of the required two. He suspected that these were to be used during times of prosperity.

When he reached the blank cards, he paused to contemplate the current state of Panem. Coriolanus knew the financial status of the Capitol; he knew the strained resources of the Peacekeepers as they worked hard to keep the country together; he knew that tensions had increased recently over the past few months, though the descent was negligible. Most importantly, he knew that everyone needed a firm reminder that a return to war was not an option.

From the stack of pre-written cards, the president picked a more severe scenario from the provided cards, not out of malice, but out of fatherly concern. The card read:

_As a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district will be required to send twice as many tributes._

Reaching for the envelopes, the president pulled the one pre-labeled _Second Quarter Quell_ andslipped the card inside. Returning the box to its former state, the president placed his envelope in the front of the box, where it would remain until read on television later in the spring.

Coriolanus turned over the top sheet of paper and continued reading:

_We hope that Panem is strong and thriving with the twelve remaining districts stable and productive. We pray that the country has been free from war and that the safeguards we put in place have kept our land secure. Most importantly, we presume that you understand that as president it is your duty to keep our country united in peace, __to do whatever it takes__._

Coriolanus whispered the underlined words, "Whatever it takes."

Snow sat back with crossed arms, stroking the end of his beard. He had felt the weight of responsibility of becoming president on his inauguration day, but here, reading the ghostly words from the long deceased leaders who saved Panem, he felt a new sort of honor as pride surged through his body like an electric shock.

Below those handwritten words, Coriolanus recognized the signatures of past presidents, names only to be read by future leaders. Coriolanus removed a pen from his pocket and proceeded to add his signature to the bottom of the list.

Returning the pen to his jacket, Coriolanus turned over the sheet of paper to find a typed, multiple page document. In bold lettering, the paper was titled _District 13_.

**...**

When the president quickly passed through Vera's office, she and her support secretaries could tell that something was different with the man.

Vera followed her boss into his office, shutting the door behind her. "May I be of assistance, Mr. President?"

Taking a deep breath, Coriolanus sat down and exhaled slowly. "I'm good, Vera. Thank you."

"You look rattled."

"I'm fine. I visited the president's vault and retrieved the Quarter Quell information for the Gamemakers. I've already contacted the Head Gamemaker and told him what was written on the card."

Vera sat in the guest chair. "What's planned for the next Quell?"

Coriolanus smiled. "You'll have to wait until the official announcement."

Pursing her lips, Vera crossed her legs in silence.

The president gnawed his lip. "There is something important that can't wait." Clenching his jaw, the president swallowed. "I need to speak to the defense minister, here in my office, immediately."

"Yes, sir." Sensing the president's urgency, Vera stood and headed for the door.

"Vera?"

She turned. "Sir?"

"I..." His eyes drifted down to his desk. "I need to see my ther—. I need to see Julia. Tell her it's an emergency."

When the president's troubled eyes lifted, Vera stepped closer. "The thing that is troubling you, how bad is it?"

Coriolanus could see the worry that he had instilled in his secretary. He rose from his desk and moved around to the front, reaching for her hands. "It's not anything the country needs to worry about. It is a burden that I must bear alone, something that I should have been made aware of two years ago on inauguration day." He squeezed her hands reassuredly. "Luckily, no harm has been done. There is no need for anyone to worry."

Vera returned his reassuring squeeze and smiled. "Okay. I'll go make some calls."

**...**

Slouched in a corner chair in his bedroom, Coriolanus sipped from a wine glass as classical music played from shelf speakers. His tie hung loosely around his neck with his dress jacket and shoes scattered about the floor.

There was a knock on the door, and it opened to reveal Julia dressed in business skirt and jacket. Closing the door behind her, Snow's companion took small steps across the room, studying him. "You're not a casual drinker."

"No. No I'm not." Coriolanus sat his wine glass upon a side table beneath a large unlit lamp. He leaned forward. "I took a stress pill. I was hoping that the wine would speed up the reaction." He tried to stand, but exhaustedly flopped back down into his chair.

Julia approached the president and took a seat on his footstool. Reaching out, she took hold of his hands. "Alcohol doesn't react that way with that medicine. That's not why they warn people not to mix alcohol with stress pills."

"Oh." Coriolanus lifted her hands and planted a dry single kiss upon the back of one. "Thank you for coming."

"I came as quick as I could. Vera mentioned that you were upset."

Rubbing his thumbs gently against her knuckles, he sighed. "A little."

"Where did you get the stress medicine?"

The president shrugged. "I still have one of my late wife's bottles."

"How many did you take?"

"Just one."

Julia smiled. "You don't feel a thing; do you?"

Coriolanus frowned. "How did you know?"

"How old are those pills? Twelve, thirteen years?" They began to expire six months after their prescription.

Straightening in his chair, Coriolanus ran his hands through his hair and groaned. "I'm a fool. Panem has a fool for a president."

"You are no fool." Julia gripped his chin and kissed him softly. "You're just having a bad day."

The kiss brought forth a smile. "I'm glad the pill didn't dull my senses. Your kiss is still the best drug out there."

"Do you want to tell me what upset you?"

"I can't directly say." His eyes drifted away, but after a few deep breaths, he cleared his throat. "But today, I had to give an order to have all our nuclear missiles fully inspected. When I spoke to the defense minister, I learned that the missiles had not been checked in a very long time, too long in fact."

"Is Panem in danger?" asked Julia.

The president shook his head. "I don't believe so. There has been no sign of any outside threats. Defense doesn't think that any significant civilizations have re-risen from the rubbled cities, near or overseas. But, I..."

Julia gently lifted his chin with her finger. "What?"

"I have to do whatever it takes. I have to be the president." Coriolanus kissed her hand and then place it over his heart.

Julia caressed his face with her free hand. "Should we start with a bath, something relaxing?"

Coriolanus reached for her free hand and with a pleading voice, said, "I just want you to hold me. Tonight, I just want to lie in your arms and pretend that I'm not the president. Make me forget who I am. Make me believe that I'm an artist who makes the world a more beautiful place. Let me think that I'm a gardener, that I'm an instrument of beauty and joy, not a man who must distribute law and justice. Take me to a place where the ugliness of man does not exist. Let us pretend to be in a meadow in the middle of a forest or lost in some secret garden, anywhere but here. I just need you to hold me."

Julia rose, pulling the president to his feat. Together they walked over to the bed. She kicked off her shoes and loosened her skirt, letting it slide to the floor. The president slipped out of his dress slacks as Julia dimmed the lights. Otherwise clothed, they slipped together under the covers with Coriolanus's head coming to rest upon Julia's chest.

There they lay together, whispering happier stories of long forgotten adventures of youth. There they quietly listened to beautiful music as the day's stresses began to melt away. Wrapped tight in Julia's arms, president found respite and drifted off to much needed sleep.


	5. We

**14 "We"**

After some much-needed deep sleep, Coriolanus woke feeling refreshed and calm. He continued to lay motionless, staring outside his bedroom window when he heard rustling from the other side of the bed. Rolling over, he found Julia waking with a stretch. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her on the shoulder. "Good morning, my dear."

"Hmm." Julia snuggled up against him.

"Sleep well?"

"Yes." She glanced over her shoulder. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much. You cured what ached me."

"All I did was hold you."

Coriolanus kissed her again on the shoulder. "That's all I needed." He laid his head upon his pillow and sniffed her long flowing hair. "Apricot shampoo?"

"Hmm. Yes. It's not too strong is it?"

"No. It's perfect." Coriolanus hugged her tighter. "You're perfect."

Julia smiled as she felt something begin to stir with the president.

Brushing her hair aside, Coriolanus kissed her slender neck, his smile growing. "In fact, I think it's turning me on."

"Everything turns you on. For a fifty-year-old, you're surprisingly virile. Are you ever going to act your age?"

Coriolanus's hand began to explore. "No, so you better start taking your calcium pills."

Laughing, Julia rolled onto her back and passionately welcomed Coriolanus into her arms.

Later that morning, Julia exited the president's bathroom, having showered and dressed. She found the president transferring breakfast trays from a cart to a small circular table in the corner of his large bedroom. "I hope there's coffee?" she asked.

"There is." Coriolanus poured her a cup as she took a seat. "I ordered your usual. If you prefer something else, I can call the kitchen."

"No. This is perfect." Julia sipped her coffee.

Coriolanus took a seat at the table, draping his napkin across his lap. "I hope you don't mind discussing a little business over breakfast?"

"Your secretary took care of that."

Adding cream to his coffee, the president smiled. "Not me. I have a broader idea, something for the benefit of Panem."

Julia eyed him.

"Hear me out. You can tell me to stuff it if you want, but let me propose my idea."

"I'm listening." Julia scooped up a bite of eggs.

"What one thing is the biggest threat to a nation?"

Shrugging that she did not know, Julia continued with her breakfast.

"The unknown," continued Snow. "If you know of a danger, you need not be afraid of it."

"If you don't know of the danger," said Julia, "you won't waste time fearing it."

Coriolanus raised his index finger. "Until it's too late. I don't want any unknowns to sneak up on Panem until it's too late."

Taking a sip from her orange juice, Julia's eyes narrowed as she connected the dots. "Something unknown upset you yesterday."

Nodding, Coriolanus quickly swallowed a bite of food. "I don't want to be surprised like that again."

"Okay, but how does this involve me?"

Gnawing his lip, the president paused and then said, "I want you to help me collect information."

"You know that I don't reveal anyone's secrets."

"Yes." Coriolanus set down his utensils. "But what if you made an arrangement with some of your peers who work around the government buildings? Let them know that there could be financial rewards for useful information."

Julia began spreading jam across her toast. "None of my _peers_ would do such a thing. It could be dangerous breaking the code."

"The information would not be made public; it would be kept secret to be analyzed for potential threats. Your peers would not be put in danger. No one will ever know if a secret has been revealed."

"Are you looking for spies?" asked Julia.

"No," replied Snow. "Just information. We can never have enough information."

Julia smiled as she chewed her toast.

"What?"

"You just used a _royal we_."

Coriolanus frowned. "No I didn't."

"You did."

"If I did, I'm only referring to everyone in Panem, for their benefit."

"Uh hu," commented Julia with a grin. "You like the power."

"I like serving Panem."

Julia rolled her eyes as she took a bite of toast. "And how do you expect this information to be extracted? It would be obvious if we started asking questions."

"No one should have to do much. You know better than I that men have the inexplicable need to impress pretty girls with their boring accomplishments. I suspect that many governmental secrets have been shared in the superfluous attempt to woo a fair maiden."

Julia reached for her coffee. "I won't argue with you there."

"What if you mentored some young ladies who may be new to the business?"

"You want me to become a madam?"

Coriolanus's chewing slowed. "More like...select intelligence specialist."

"A madam."

"You get a percentage of their income. You also get a percentage of any rewarded information."

It was Julia's turn to chew slowly as she estimated the potential revenue. "Tax free?"

"Only if you don't report it," said Snow with a grin. "I'm curious; do you report it?"

Sneering, Julia reached for her juice. "Of course I do. Do you think I'm stupid enough to risk a tax audit?"

"You're the smartest person I've ever met. I wasn't sure."

"If I get busted by the police, it's a slap on the wrist compared to what the tax man would do." Julia speared a sausage link with her fork. "Can't you lower taxes now that you're president? At least give us entertainers a tax break."

"Sorry. Tax rates are set by the senate." Coriolanus refilled his coffee. "Actually, the income tax could be completely done away."

Julia stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"The income tax is financially unnecessary." The president shrugged. "Well, for ordinary citizens. The ultra rich should still be taxed."

Wiping her mouth with her napkin, Julia sat back in her chair. "Then why do we have an income tax?"

"Power, of course." Coriolanus sipped his coffee. "It's a way to control the populace. A long long time ago, the Dutch and British understood this. An income tax forces people to use the national currency, which in turn gives a nation state its power; taxes can be used to adjust the economy if it becomes too strong or weak by changing the tax rate; and taxes can be used against dissidents since no one can fill out the overly complex tax forms correctly. Tell everyone it's their civic duty, and they comply with little bickering, binding them to the state."

"You're a bastard," said Julia with a contemptuous smile.

Wiping his mouth, the gifted moneys expert leaned back in his chair. "Did you know that when the British were conquering parts of Africa, they were having trouble with some of the tribes not conforming to colonial rule and traditions? They finally passed a law that everyone must pay a _hut tax, _as it was named. When the natives refused to pay, they publicly hung a few of them for failing to pay their taxes. This forced the natives to begin working for the colonist to generate British currency to pay these taxes. Some even sold their meager possessions or land in exchange for British currency. Eventually, the native people succumbed to the colonial economy. There were a couple uprising, but when it was all said and done, the British gained full control thanks to the British Pound and taxes."

Julia sipped her coffee. "It sounds so cruel. Do you think it's cruel?"

Coriolanus paused in thought. "I suppose. But so are Peacekeepers. So is nature and the weather. So is life. Unless society wants to return to living like Neanderthals, we need some order to the chaos."

Studying the president, a simple question came to Julia. "Coriolanus, with all these burdens, do you honestly like being president?"

With assured eyes and a sheepish grin, he looked up from his coffee and answered, "Yes. What else am I good for?"

**...**

Vera entered the president's office, closing the door behind her. Seeing Coriolanus engrossed in a book, she approached his desk slowly. "Your one o'clock has arrived."

"Ah, thank you, Vera." The president set aside his leather bound copy of _Jane Eyre_. "Send him in."

Gnawing her lip, Vera hesitated stepping away.

"Is there something wrong, Vera?"

"No, sir. I'll send him in." She turned to leave.

"Vera."

She paused. "Sir?"

The president leaned back against his chair. "You know that you can speak freely with me."

Taking a step forward, Vera said, "The man you are interviewing to be your assistant, I recognized his name and did some research. Are you aware of his past?"

Snow licked his lips, folding his hand in his lap. "Yes, I know. That is why I've offered him the position."

"Will he be performing secretarial duties?"

"No," replied Coriolanus. "He will be more of a messenger and bodyguard."

"You have bodyguards," said Vera.

"True. But this man has significant experience that the others don't possess. If he troubles you, I can cancel the interview."

Vera smiled. "I'm fine. I just don't want him to be a stain on your presidency."

"He won't. If I hire him, I expect him to linger in the shadows, out of public view."

After a brief stare, Vera nodded and smiled. "Very good, sir. I'll send him in."

"Vera."

"Yes, sir?"

"Thank you for your concern. I have always cherished it."

After a glance that only long-term friends could exchange, Vera opened the door and invited a tall, muscular man into the president's office.

Rising from his chair, the man buttoned his dress suit and entered.

"Mr. President," announced Vera, "I present Tiberius Pullo."

Coriolanus rose and received a firm handshake. "Thank you for coming. Have a seat."

Tiberius sat in the guest chair, briefly bunching his hands into fists in an attempt to hide his nervousness.

Returning to his leather chair, the president considered the man's sharp dress clothes and demeanor. Though the man was dressed stylish in civilian clothes, they could not hide the career officer Peacekeeper underneath.

"Did my aide Ashur explain the responsibilities of being my security assistant?" asked the president.

"Yes, sir."

"And you're still interested in the position? Serving me will mean long days."

"I'm use to long days, Mr. President."

"The job may intrude into your personal life."

Tapping his finger rapidly on his knee, Tiberius faintly shrugged. "I'm not currently in a relationship, and when I am, they are more the temporary type anyway. I'm a career man. All I've ever wanted to do is serve."

"Serve who?"

Tiberius swallowed. "You and Panem, sir."

"If you had to pick one?"

Without hesitation, the man replied, "You, Mr President."

Coriolanus intentionally paused to study how the man handled uncomfortable silence. He admired his firmness, but sensed the tiniest of apprehension in the man. "Is there something on your mind, Mr. Pollo?"

"Yes, sir. I want to serve you, but...I must confess that I've served time in prison. Why are you offering me the job?"

"I followed your court martial in the newspapers and recall that you did not put up much of a defense, saying only that you were, quote, 'just following orders.' Despite this, you notably accepted responsibility for the many civilian deaths."

Tiberius clenched his jaw, saying nothing in his defense.

"I called the Head Peacekeeper in District 11 and asked him one simple question: Did Mr. Pollo fall on his sword? He told me _yes_." Leaning forward in his chair, Snow asked, "Are you still that man? Can you still follow orders?"

Lifting his head, Tiberius replied, "Yes, sir."

Coriolanus stood with his hand extended. "Then I'd like to offer you the position."

Tiberius rose and shook Snow's hand. "Thank you, Mr. President."

Snow pressed a button on his intercom. "I'll have Vera escort you to George's office. He's the head of security here in the mansion. He will grant you full security clearance and issue you a firearm of your choice."

Vera entered the office. "Mr. President?"

"Mr. Pollo has accepted my offer to be my security assistant. Vera, please escort Mr. Pollo here to see George for all the essentials. We have much work to do."

**...**

Outside in his garden, President Snow snipped at a rose bush. Stepping back to admire his work, he began hearing steps upon the stone gravel. He turned to see Ashur Magnus and Head Gamemaker Titus approaching, their faces tight with concern.

"Gentlemen," greeted Coriolanus, "do we have word of our young victor?"

"Mr. President." Titus stood at attention, bowing slightly. "If infection doesn't break out in the next 48 hours, the doctors believe that he should make a full recovery."

"Sir." Ashur politely nodded towards the president. "To be honest, I thought he was a goner when I saw his intestines pour out on the television."

"Um, yes. I was thinking the same," commented the nervous Head Gamemaker. "It was lucky for all of us that the coroner on site is an accomplished doctor. She kept him stabilized on the hovercraft; otherwise, he would not have survived the flight back to the Capitol."

Ashur exchanged a look with the Head Gamemaker and then turned to Coriolanus. "Mr. President, did you see the ending?"

"Yes. Quite an exciting finish if I may say." Coriolanus noticed the Head Gamemaker fidgeting. "Is there something wrong, Titus?"

"Mr. President, I was wondering how we should address his cheating."

Coriolanus eyes widened. "What cheating?"

"When he used the arena's force field to defeat the last tribute," conveyed Titus.

"Nonsense. I don't consider that cheating. He was just using the resources at hand. If we had them in a giant cage, would it not be appropriate to use the walls of the cage. Just because the walls of the arena are invisible, doesn't mean that young Haymitch Abernathy could not use them. The arena and everything within is fair game."

Ashur tapped Titus on the shoulder. "I told you not to worry. The President always favors the smartest tributes."

Titus nodded in agreement. "Very good, Mr. President. There had been some debate over this. I will make sure that all the Gamemakers understand your position."

Ashur clasped his hands behind his back. "Was Haymitch Abernathy your top pick this year, Mr. President?"

Coriolanus stepped over to his gardening cart and retrieved a bottle of water. "No. I had first thought that the boy from District 6 would win." Sipping his water, the president's brow furled in thought. "What was his name? I seem to have forgotten."

Titus turned to Ashur who shrugged. The Head Gamemaker turned to the president. "It appears than we have all forgotten. Having 48 tributes this year instead of the traditional 24 seems to have clogged our memories."

"Hmm, doesn't matter." Snow set down his water. "I next turned my attention to that charming Maysilee Donner from District 12. I admired how she incorporated using poison from the arena's plants onto her blowgun darts. Her stealth was impressive."

"So, you're not a fan of Mr. Abernathy?" asked Ashur.

The president began studying his half-pruned rose bush. "Not really. He's a bit crude for my tastes. But, I suppose the common folk find him witty."

"The viewers certainly took a shining to him," said Head Gamemaker Titus.

Nodding, Coriolanus picked up his pruning shears. "True, and if they're happy, then we're happy."


	6. Hubris

**15 Hubris**

"Hurry up, daddy."

With tie in hand, Coriolanus turned from his dressing mirror to find his teenage daughter standing in the bedroom doorway. "You're ready before me? That's a first."

"Yes, daddy. Hurry up. I don't want to be late."

Livia's nanny squeezed past the president's daughter, entering Coriolanus's room. "Don't pester your father, Livia. The winter victor's banquet doesn't begin until the president arrives. You won't miss a thing."

Coriolanus turned back to the mirror, draping the tie around his neck. "And pestering me will only slow me down."

Mary watched Coriolanus fumble with his collar. "Here, let me." She turned the president around and assisted with his tie.

"Thank you, Mary."

"My pleasure, Mr. President."

Lifting his chin out of the way, Coriolanus could see his daughter's impatience. "Take your time, Mary. I don't want to show up with a crooked tie."

Livia groaned, stomping her foot before storming out of the room.

With pursed lips, Mary shook her head. "Don't tease her Coriolanus."

The president chuckled. "I know. I couldn't help myself. She does look stunning."

"Be sure to tell her." Mary began making final adjustments to his tie.

"I will. I think this is the first governmental social event she's actually excited about."

Stepping back to eye her work, Mary crossed her arms and smiled. "You know why."

"Don't remind me." Coriolanus sighed. "Do they still talk on the phone?"

Mary nodded. "He's not that bad." The nanny pulled the president's dress jacket off its hanger and held it up for Coriolanus.

Sliding into the jacket, he sneered, recalling his first encounter with the young man. "When I placed the victor's crown on his head, he barely had the energy to stand on the stage. Yet, he had the audacity to wink at me as I approached."

"Livia thinks that he was winking at her. Remember, she was standing right next to you holding the crown's pillow."

"Did he? He was so doped up on painkillers; I'm surprised young Mr. Abernathy knew where he was."

Mary began buttoning Coriolanus's jacket. "It's a miracle he could stand that soon after abdominal surgery."

"True." Coriolanus turned towards the nanny. "Thank you, Mary. Are you sure you don't want to join us?"

With a final brushing of his jacket, Mary judged the president ready. "I'm good. I've got a date."

Snow's brow rose. "With who?"

"A Mr. Charles d'Artagnan." Stepping backward, Mary's smile grew.

Coriolanus eyes narrowed as he tried to recall the name.

"We're meeting in the library," added Mary.

"A book?" asked Coriolanus.

"Yes. Your library has one of the best English translations of _The Three Musketeers _by Alexandre Dumas. It's gritty and smart. It's wonderful."

"I'll make certain to put it on my 'to read' list. I'm busy re-reading _Jane Eyre_." Following Mary out into the corridor, Coriolanus walked with her.

"That book has struck a chord with you." Mary accepted Coriolanus's arm as they walked.

"It has." Coriolanus patted her hand. "Promise not to laugh?"

"Of course."

"I find the book...spiritual."

Her head tilted in thought before meeting the president's gaze. "I can see that."

Glancing down the corridor, Coriolanus saw his daughter waiting by the elevator with her arms crossed. He stopped with a sigh, turning towards Mary. "Well, I've put this off long enough."

The nanny straightened his tie. "It won't be so bad. Try to have some fun."

With a loud thump, Livia smashed the elevator call button, causing the adults to smile.

**...**

Presidential Aide Ashur Magnus stepped next the president. "Sir."

Turning away from the main commotion of the victor's banquet, the president exhaled heavily. "Hello, Ashur."

Within earshot of the president, a crowd had gathered around young Haymitch Abernathy. Attached to the 16-year-old victor's arm was an enamored Livia. The room joyous, Haymitch smiled as he exchanged banter with the crowd.

Judging the situation, Ashur sipped from his champagne glass and grinned. "Quite the victor we have this year."

"Quite," grumbled Coriolanus. "I think that I prefer the quiet ones."

"Don't you mean _damaged_?" countered Ashur.

The president shrugged.

One of the sponsors asked Haymitch, "Are you and the president's daughter dating?"

"That's a presidential secret," replied Haymitch, "but, I will say that I'm not against dating older women."

Coriolanus groaned and began flagging down a champagne server.

Ashur chuckled. "Is Livia 17?"

"Yes."

"Huh." Ashur's mouth twisted in thought. "Doesn't the victor have a girlfriend back home in District 12?"

"Yes," replied Coriolanus. "They interviewed her several times on television. Livia says that she and Haymitch are just friends."

From the gathered crowd of sponsors, a man called out to Haymitch, "What do you think of the president's mansion?"

"Not too shabby," replied Haymitch with a smirk, glancing up at the decorated high ceilings. He then gestured to Livia. "But it pales in comparison to the first daughter."

Ashur shook his head. "He plays the crowd better than you."

Not wanting to look, Coriolanus took a large sip from his champagne glass, his jaw clenching as he swallowed.

A woman asked, "Do you enjoy being in the Capitol?"

"Yes, ma'am. I like it here so much, I may run for president."

As the crowd erupted in laughter, Coriolanus's lips curled back into a snarl. "Can I kill him?"

Exchanging a look with the president, Ashur smiled. "You've got a crowd pleaser on your hands. I'm sure he could be of some use to you."

A man standing behind the young couple asked, "Haymitch, which party would you affiliate with?"

"Either, as long as it has party in the name." Haymitch raised his champagne glass into the air and whooped joyfully.

"Now, can I kill him?" asked the president.

"Not so loud," said Ashur in a low tone. "People will think you're serious."

"Maybe I am." Snow turned and walked away.

Ashur sprung forward to catch up. "I've gotten several requests from your supporters to have young Haymitch attend their functions. Shall I proceed with these, Mr. President?"

"Yes, but keep him away from me. I don't want to share any events with him."

"Very good, sir. I'll make sure of that."

Coriolanus sat at the president's table, grateful for the relative stillness of his side of the banquet hall. He raised his hand and a male Avox servant approached. "Please bring me vegetable beef soup."

The Avox bowed and departed for the kitchen.

Ashur stood patiently to the side.

Noticing is overly polite aid, Coriolanus gestured for the man to join him.

Ashur took a seat. "Sir, I've heard some rumors regarding the other victors."

The president leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Never trust a rumor unless it's for political gain."

"For a while now, I've been setting up the meet and greets between the victors and our supporters. Recently, certain...scandalous rumors have made their way back to me."

"Such as?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Ashur leaned over the corner of the table. "Apparently some of the victors have been going above and beyond what is expected of them. Some have been engaging in relations with some of our supporters in exchange for gifts."

Coriolanus's brow rose. "Really? What kind of gifts?"

"I've heard that the gifts vary: Sometimes it's a favor for a friend back in their home district; sometimes it's jewelry; and sometimes it's just cash."

Clasping his hands together, Coriolanus touched the tip of his beard with his index fingers. "Interesting, so a victor's generous winnings isn't enough."

"Mr. President, what should I do about it?"

Snow eyed the aide. "Nothing."

Ashur shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Some of the favors could be illegal."

"If they are, then they are more of a benefit to us, not them."

Lowering his voice to a whisper, Ashur again leaned forward. "Leverage?"

Snow licked his lips and nodded. "Leverage."

The male Avox returned and set a large bowl of soup before the President. As the Avox filled the president's water glass, laughter erupted from the crowd of sponsors on the other side of the room.

Coriolanus frowned. "Looks as if our victor is still winning them over."

"Bread and circuses, Mr. President." Ashur looked over his shoulder at the crowd. "Bread and circuses."

Sampling his soup, Coriolanus found it pleasing. He was chewing on a large portion of beef when a thought came to him. "I wonder what kind of favors young Mr. Abernathy could bring Panem."

Ashur shrugged. "If he's willing."

"I'm sure he would be," said Snow with a mischievous smile, "if I ask him nicely enough." With fresh ideas flowing through his mind, Coriolanus gleefully returned to his soup.

Later, after his meal, Coriolanus looked up to see Haymitch and Livia approaching his table.

Haymitch bowed. "Thank you for the wonderful banquet, Mr. President. I'm truly honored."

Coriolanus forced a smile. "You've earned it, Mr. Abernathy. You survived an especially difficult Hunger Games, and the people seem to enjoy your sense of hubris."

His face reddened from alcohol, the victor's brow furled as he searched his shallow vocabulary. "Does that mean I'm funny?"

Behind his courteous smile, Snow gritted his teeth. "Not exactly, but close enough."

The band began playing a waltz, which in turn caused the first daughter's eyes to light up.

Livia grabbed the victor's arm. "A waltz. Oh, come dance with me, Haymitch."

"I don't know how to waltz."

"Just follow my lead." Livia eagerly began pulling the victor towards the dance floor. "It's easy to learn."

Haymitch staggered forward. "Sweetheart, I'd follow you anywhere."

Ashur looked to the perturbed president and shrugged his sympathy.

Rising from his chair, Coriolanus dropped his napkin on the table. "I've had enough. I'm off to my garden."

Ashur raised his glass. "Good night, sir."

Coriolanus climbed a set of steps up to a terrace that encircled the banquet hall. Pausing at the top, he looked down on the banquet room. Around the dance floor, people gathered to watch a handful of couples waltz in a broad circle. In the center, his little girl joyfully worked with the victor to teach him the fundamentals. Fortunate for the victor, Livia's immense skills overshadowed his shortcomings on the dance floor.

But Livia was no longer his little girl. At 17-years-old, she was wiser than her age, unafraid of public attention, and brave: dare the proud father declare, exceptionally beautiful. Coriolanus chest swelled with pride as he watched her naturally lead the dance floor, lighting up the room with her smile. He knew with confidence that whatever she decided for her life, she would not fail. No matter his political accomplishments, his daughter would forever be his crowning achievement.

**...**

In his garden, Coriolanus prepared an arrangement of roses to give to Mary as a gift. He knew that he could not have raised Livia this successfully on his own without a devoted nanny. He often thanked the nanny for her service, but he was determined to make a bigger event of it this time.

While adding baby's breath to the flower arrange, Coriolanus heard someone enter his garden. He turned to see his daughter.

"Hi, daddy. I thought you'd be here."

Coriolanus smiled. "Is the banquet over?"

"Yes. I just wanted to say goodnight and thank you for this wonderful dress."

"You're welcome, darling."

Livia joined her father at his workbench. Her fingers grazed the roses. "This is beautiful. Who is it for?"

"Mary," replied Coriolanus. "I discovered something tonight that I owe her a great debt of gratitude."

"What did you discover?"

Coriolanus took his daughter's hand and planted a dry kiss upon it. "That my little girl is all grown up."

"Oh, daddy. I have a lot of growing up yet to do." Livia wrapped her arms around her father.

"I know, but I see it now." Coriolanus hugged her. "Try not to break too many hearts."

"Daddy, stop it."

In the glow of the grow lights, father and daughter held each other tight in an extended hug.

Livia cleared her throat. "Do I look like mom?"

"What?" Coriolanus released his daughter and took a step back. "What do you mean?"

"Most people tell me that I resemble you, but when you look at me, do you see mom?"

"Um..." Coriolanus had not thought about his dead wife in ages. He stared into his daughter's face, looking for her mother.

It is said that time erodes the negative memories, leaving the fondest and most cherished ones of friends and family. Snow could not remember much of his dead wife. When he thought hard, he could only remember her incessant complaining and laziness.

"You have your mother's eyes," lied Snow. "She would be very proud of how you turned out."

"Daddy..." Livia focus drifted to the flower arrangement.

"What, darling?"

"Is it wrong to think of Mary as my mother? A second mother, I mean"

Reaching for his daughter's hand, he patted it gently. "No, not at all. I've thought the same thing."

Livia looked into his eyes. "Why didn't you and Mary ever start dating?"

"Oh. Um...it just wasn't meant to be." Coriolanus turned away towards his roses. "I guess that I've never gotten over your mother."

Wrapping her arm around her father's shoulder, Livia hugged him. "Are you lonely? Are you happy?"

"I'm happy," replied Coriolanus truthfully. "I have good friends and the finest daughter a father could ask for."

Livia rested her head on his shoulder. "Okay." She ran her fingers over a few of the rose petals. "Mary is going to love this."

Coriolanus turned to look at his daughter. "I hope so."

Kissing her father's cheek, Livia said, "Good night, daddy."

"Good night, darling."

An hour later, Coriolanus had finished with his adjustments to the floral arrangement. Putting his tools away, he returned his workbench to its pristine conditions and washed his hands.

He collected Mary's gift and headed for the mansion's library in the hope of finding the nanny, for she was known to read late into the evenings.

Entering the room, he found it dark and vacant. He turned on the lights in search of her teacup. Her tea service was still present, but the pot was cool, signaling to him that she had retired to bed early.

Coriolanus set the vase of roses onto a large rectangle-reading table that divided the room. Slowly he perused the books, circling the room with slow small steps. This cherished room was only second to his indoor garden, and on these shelves were thousands of classics. Many he had read, many more yet to be explored—all great adventures.

Running his fingers over the binding of short stories, Snow recalled the notable tales that were set in a distant Africa. He wondered if he would swap his life story for one of those on the library shelves, which he would choose. _Would anyone be interested in my story? _he thought.

Deciding that he would present Mary his gift in the morning, Coriolanus collected the flower arrangement and headed for his bedroom.

Walking the corridors, he realized that this was not just _his _gift to the nanny; it should also be presented with Livia in attendance. Together they would express their gratitude for Mary's years of care and wisdom. _Heck_, he thought, _we'll make it a full day of celebrations. We'll have a special dinner._

Livia's room was just ahead, and he heard his daughter's laugher. Deciding to invite Livia to the breakfast celebration, Coriolanus opened the door and popped in his head, "Livia?"

With only a dim table light illuminating the room, Livia sat up in a panic, grabbing for her bed sheet. "Daddy!" Franticly, she pulled the sheet up to her chin.

Coriolanus face quickly flushed with embarrassment. "Oh God, I'm sorry."

As Coriolanus quickly turned to exit, Haymitch Abernathy's head rose out of the tangled sheets. The victor rolled onto his side and smiled. "Evening, Mr. President."

Snow's embarrassment quickly evaporated as the blood drained from his face, his eyes locking on the young man.

"Um..." Livia giggled. "Daddy, do you mind?"

"Sorry. Sorry." Coriolanus turned away and began closing the door.

"Daddy?"

Coriolanus paused, keeping his head turned away.

"Yes, Livia."

"I don't want you to worry. I'm being responsible."

Swallowing hard, Coriolanus said, "I trust your judgment. See you at breakfast."

"Good night, daddy."

"Good night, Livia."

As Snow shut the door, Haymitch said, "I prefer my eggs sunny side up, like you."

Through the door, Snow heard a slap and then the sounds of youthful laughter. He took a deep breath and promptly stepped away.

The president returned to his room and began pacing. He knew his daughter was mature enough to make these kinds of decisions, but it did not make it any easier. Settling into his reading chair, he tried to calm himself, but it was to no avail. Not since before his wife's passing did he feel this upset. Drowning in emotion, Snow once again found himself seething.


	7. A Proposal

**16 A Proposal**

The next morning, a sleepless Coriolanus entered his secretary's office and found the room tense with worried looking secretaries, their solemn eyes falling on him.

Vera rose from her chair. "Good morning, Mr. President."

"Morning, Vera. Is there something wrong?"

"There was, but it has been resolved, just a couple minutes ago."

"What was the matter?" asked Snow.

"Last night, Haymitch Abernathy went missing after the banquet, and no one knew where he had disappeared. He and his team were supposed to depart by train around midnight, but security could not find young man. George just called to let us know that the victor has returned to his room in the Training Center. They are now on their way to the train station."

His jaw clenched, the president inhaled deeply through his nose. "Did he say where he was?"

"No, sir. He told George that he was out enjoying the Capitol nightlife. It looks as if no harm was done."

His mind racing, Coriolanus departed for his office without another word.

Vera entered the president's office and stood before his desk. "Are you okay, sir? You look exhausted."

Coriolanus rubbed his eyes. "I feel exhausted. I didn't sleep well."

"I'll fetch you a fresh cup of coffee."

"Thank you, Vera. Can you order me my usual breakfast? I didn't eat this morning before leaving the mansion."

Vera smiled. "I'd be happy to. Anything else, sir?"

"Yes." Snow leaned back in his chair. "I need to speak with my security assistant, in person, right away. Send for Tiberius."

Vera's smile lessened slightly. "Yes, sir. Right away."

**...**

Tiberius Pullo entered the president's office just as Coriolanus was finishing breakfast. He closed the door and stood before the president's desk, clasping his hands before him. "Sir, you asked to see me."

Coriolanus set his breakfast plate aside before reaching for his coffee. Gesturing with his free hand for Tiberius to sit, Snow took a long sip of coffee, exhaling noisily through his nose. "I need you to go to District 12 tomorrow and fix a problem. Apparently, young Haymitch Abernathy has eyes for my daughter. I want you to go and remind him that he already has a girlfriend in District 12 and that he should have no contact with my daughter." Coriolanus pressed his lips tight as his eyes sharpened on Tiberius. "Make sure he understands that it is in his best interest to not even say my daughter's name."

"Mr. President, is this a rush priority, needing a hovercraft, or should I keep this a quiet as possible and take the train?"

"It's already too late in some aspects. Do this as quiet as possible."

"How far did the relationship get, sir?"

Coriolanus's glare told Tiberius everything he needed to know.

"Oh," commented Tiberius. "There is no way of stopping a teenage girl from gossiping."

"True." Coriolanus sipped from his mug. "But she's a smart girl who understands politics. Hopefully, she will keep this to herself. Even if she tells her friends, no one is to approach my daughter in regard to this. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. Fully." Mr. Pullo cleared his throat. "What if I learn that the press is asking questions in regard to the matter?"

"The press understands that the children of Presidents are off limits."

"Not victors," commented Tiberius.

Snow took a large swig of coffee, gritting his teeth as the hot liquid warmed his throat. "The press knows what is in their best interest. They won't touch this story."

"Okay," said Tiberius. "But I would like to monitor for any discussion of the matter, just in case."

"Very well." Coriolanus turned to look out his window. "I already have enough worries with my re-election campaign about to ramp up. I don't need any distractions."

In a cold, steady tone, Tiberius said, "I'll deliver your message, Mr. President."

"Thank you, Tiberius. You may go."

As soon as Tiberius departed, Vera entered the president's office. "Can I get you anything, sir?"

Staring out his window, Coriolanus shook his head.

Vera collected the finished breakfast tray. "Is everything okay?"

Forcing a smile, Coriolanus turned and repositioned himself in his chair. "Nothing big that can't be easily fixed. How are you this morning, Vera."

"Good, sir." Vera watched her boss's smile fade. "Something is gnawing at you."

"I guess it's a combination of things." Unable to sit comfortably, Coriolanus leaned forward against his desk. "My back is killing me. Can you see if my therapist is available?"

Vera smiled. "Yes, sir. How soon?"

"Lunch if possible."

"I'll call her right now." The secretary turned to leave.

"Vera."

The secretary stopped and turned. "Yes, sir."

Snow smiled reassuringly. "Things are okay."

**...**

"Things are not okay," said Coriolanus into his pillow.

Straddling his back, his companion pressed the palm of her hand onto a knotted muscle between his shoulder blades. "I can see that. Your back is all knotted up. Doesn't it hurt?"

Coriolanus moaned. "I'm too preoccupied to worry about the pain."

"Can this Abernathy kid be so bad?"

"He's a hubris little bastard. I thought my daughter had finer tastes. I can't believe she is actually attracted to him."

Julia moved to the next knot in Coriolanus's back. "Love is blind."

"I'd say." The president gripped his pillow as another moan slipped out. "I've sent my guy to District 12 to remind young Mr. Abernathy that he already has a devoted girlfriend and that he should not be communicating with my daughter."

Julia's massaging slowed. "You shouldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"It's dangerous to tamper with love. Your daughter is probably going through a phase. If he is as obnoxious as you say, she should start seeing it soon enough and move on."

Coriolanus raised himself onto his elbows. "I don't have time to wait for her infatuation to fizzle out. Senator Orthos is already gunning for me and would gladly use this embarrassment to his advantage. He's the only political threat in the next election, and unfortunately, he's a serious threat.

Sitting upright, Julia placed her hands on her hips and sighed. "I'm getting nowhere with your knots." She left the bed to retrieve her bulky purse. Sitting on the bedside, she began digging within the bag and soon found the desired object. She next retrieved a glass of water from the bathroom and returned to the edge of the bed where she held out a single white pill before the president. "Here, take this."

Coriolanus stared at the round tablet. "You know I don't like taking drugs."

"This isn't the fun stuff. It's for your muscles. If you don't start relaxing, your knots are only going to worsen, and then you won't be able to ignore the pain."

Sneering, Coriolanus rolled onto his back. "I'd rather not. You're the only medicine I need."

Julia scowled at the man. "Cut the crap, Coriolanus. Trust me, you need this."

The president began pawing at her body. "I don't want to become too relaxed."

Julia rolled her eyes as she deflected his hand. "You don't have to worry _that_. There isn't even a buzz to this medication." She held the pill up before Coriolanus's mouth. "Now, open up."

Meeting her stare, Coriolanus opened his mouth, allowing his companion to place the pill on his tongue.

Julia passed him the glass of water and return to her purse, producing a bag of black licorice. Popping a piece of candy into her mouth, she positioned herself against the headboard, using her pillow as a cushion.

Setting the empty water glass on his nightstand, Coriolanus propped himself against the headboard and accepted some candy from his friend. "How long until I feel the medicine?"

"About thirty minutes, and you shouldn't _feel_ anything. It will help your muscles relax. I'll continue with your back massage then."

"Thank you for seeing me on short notice."

Julia smiled as she chewed on a piece of licorice. "I will always make time for you."

Coriolanus gently gripped her hand. "I will forever be in your debt."

Keen to Coriolanus's stressors, Julia asked, "What else is nagging you? It cannot just be your daughter."

Twisting the candy between his fingers, Coriolanus sighed. "I'm nervous about my re-election, more nervous than all my prior elections combined. If it wasn't for Senator Orthos, it would be a cakewalk."

"Do you really want to be re-elected?" asked Julia.

Coriolanus looked at her with a quizzical face. "Of course I do, why would you ask that?"

Julia shrugged. "It's a stressful job with everyone gunning for you. I've seen what the stress has done to you over the past few years."

Chewing on another piece of licorice, Coriolanus stared at the foot of the bed. "True, some it is hellish, but so is most the world. We were born on this planet to suffer and die. There is no two ways about it." The president looked into Julia's eyes. "I suspect that there is only one afterlife, and it has to be better than this—a heaven if I may be bold enough to say. This means that this world is hell, and for reasons indescribable by me, I must rule it. I must."

Brushing Snow's salt and pepper hair behind his ear, Julia planted a soft kiss upon his lips. "And what if the unthinkable happens and you're not re-elected?"

Coriolanus reached for her hand. "I'll need a good woman to help me adjust to my new life. Perhaps...a wife."

"You'd marry a woman like me?"

The president kissed her hand. "My dear, you are the smartest, bravest woman in all of Panem. Of course I would."

Julia eyed him. "Then marry me now."

"I have an image to—"

Jerking her hand free, Julia returned to her licorice.

"Uphold," finished Coriolanus with a sigh.

"I know," mumbled Julia. Setting her bag of candy between them, Julia reached into her purse and presented a folded wad of cash. "You know, you don't have to pay me anymore." She passed the money to Coriolanus. "We've moved past this a long time ago."

Coriolanus inspected money, counting it. "Jeez, is this how much Vera pays you?"

Julia slapped Coriolanus hard on the thigh.

With a hint of discomfort, Snow laughed aloud as he rubbed his thigh. "Sorry, my dear."

"You should be."

He offered the Julia the money. "Consider this as an allowance; besides, you know that I'd give you anything you want."

"How about a ring?" Julia eyed him, not accepting the money. "If you're not careful, _that_ could turn into alimony."

With puppy dog eyes, Coriolanus lowered the money as he began to pout flirtatiously.

In silence, Julia reached into the bag of candy and passed Coriolanus a piece of licorice. "Why do we even have money?"

The president glanced at the folded bills in his hand. "What do you mean?"

"Why do we continue to have cash? Couldn't everything be done by credit card? You're the monies expert, explain this to me."

Coriolanus held up the cash. "Well, there is one group of people that is dependent on cash and couldn't function without it?"

"Companions?"

The president smiled. "No. The government. Governments cannot function on a digital currency, never could. Sure, cash has many flaws: it's losable, burnable, easily stolen, and sometimes terribly inconvenient in large quantities. Nevertheless, these flaws also help the government remain healthy and functioning. A healthy government needs cash so that all the shadowy transgressions keep flowing smoothly out of sight."

"You mean bribes and kickbacks?" Julia popped a piece of candy into her mouth.

"Mostly. Lobbyists are required by law to make above the table contributions, but the gifts made under the table is what matters. It's important that the public never knows the truth, the exact numbers. Humans are analog beings; digital money goes against human nature with its rigid structure. If I could push a button and print out an exact account of all the money in Panem, the truth would cause pandemonium."

Julia's chewing slowed. "A cash economy seems quite dependent on the citizens' blind faith."

"It's completely dependent on blind faith. Good economies are naturally _leaky_, which is not compatible to digital currency. What makes me a good monies expert is that I know how to account for the losses and gains. When the budget makes it to congress for review, it always looks appropriate. Simply, cash fills the leaky holes in the ship, keeping Panem afloat."

Biting her lip, Julia asked, "Does a lot of money go _missing_?"

"Yes," replied Snow. "But not nearly as much as during times of war. Did you know that during one of ancient America's many wars, the government used to deliver pallets of cash to their enemies in an attempt to broker peace? Pallets of cash. Billions of dollars."

"Did it work?"

Snow chuckled. "Not at all. It only bought them a little time."

Julia passed Coriolanus another piece of licorice. "So, how is Panem's current state? Is the country actually doing well?"

Snow chewed on the licorice. "Panem is doing very well at the moment, but the future has me a little worried."

"In what way?"

"The districts, they are becoming too populated. They keep...breeding despite their economic conditions. The Capitol, for example, has found a balance in the population; our numbers quit climbing decades ago."

"Maybe the government needs to provide birth control to the districts."

"We do," said Snow, pressing his lips together. "The problem goes beyond simple family planning; it's a complex sociological problem: it's economic, political, educational, and even religious. Our two worlds are different. They don't fully understand us, and we don't fully understand them."

Julia bit into a piece of candy, inspecting the chewed end. "Is it dangerous, their population growing."

Snow nodded. "If the population keeps increasing, it puts additional strains on Panem's economics. It will also put additional strain on the Peacekeepers."

"I'm sure you'll find a balance," said Julia. "They're dependent on the Capitol, and we're dependent on them."

"Perhaps," commented Snow. "Some have suggested that we secretly inject sterilization drugs into the yearly mandated vaccines. I've strictly forbade this. We would be trampling into God's territory if we crossed this line. For now, we will keep increasing the numbers of Peacekeepers as we tighten the economic constraints of the districts in our search for balance. This country cannot return to war."

"Don't take this the wrong way," said Julia as she gripped the president's hand, "but I'm going to vote against you in the next election. I want to see you relaxed and happy."

Coriolanus simply smiled at her words.

Julia shifted to her knees as she pointed to the center of the bed. "Lay on your stomach, I'll work on your knotted muscles."

Coriolanus cheerfully positioned himself face down. "I really am happy, and normally, I can handle the stress."

Gently, Julia began rubbing out a knotted muscle below his shoulder. "You've change since becoming president."

"A lot of people depend on me. The stressors are greater." Coriolanus groaned with pleasure as his back began to loosen. He turned his head to the side and said, "I am serious though. If I lose the next election, I'll marry you."

"Make an honest woman of me," Julia snickered.

"More like you making an honest man of me." Coriolanus reached for a piece of licorice.

"Thank you for the proposal, but I know that we'll never be married."

"Why do you say that?" asked Coriolanus.

"Because you're already married."

Coriolanus twisted to look over his shoulder, his brow furled.

Julia smiled warmly at him. "You're married to Panem. You love Panem with all your heart."

Lowering his head to his pillow, the president reflected on Julia's words.

"That's fine with me," she continued. "I'm used to being the other woman. Hell, I've made a career of it." Julia pinched Coriolanus's fleshy side.

Nimbly twisting his body beneath Julia, Coriolanus sat up and wrapped his arms around her. After a long, warm stare, he kissed her longingly. When their lips parted, he said, "I love you."

Julia gently pressed her forehead against his. "I love you too."

"Why did it take us years to say it?"

Caressing his face, Julia stared into his eyes. "It's just our nature, I guess."

Coriolanus gripped her hand. "I recently met with my lawyers to update my will and testament; I've put you in it, along with Vera, Mary, and my daughter."

"Vera and Mary? Is there something you never told me?"

Kissing Julia's hand, Coriolanus smiled. "Nothing like that. Vera is my guardian angel; she protects me with her wisdom. Mary governs my morality; she is the quasi mother of my daughter."

"And me?" asked Julia in a cautious tone.

"You are my demon slayer, my ultimate protector, my true love. You give me life. So whether we officially get married or not, you are already the first lady of Panem. The fairest of them all."

Held in each other's embrace, the pair took great pleasure in their mutual feelings. In the blissful silence, they held each other, listening to the other breathe.

Eventually, Julia broke the embrace and gestured the president to return to his prone position. Returning to his knotted muscles, she focused on a knot and said, "Against my better judgment, I may have found a solution to your Senator Orthos problem."

"How so?" Coriolanus popped a piece of licorice into his mouth.

"I've been researching his electronic medical records, the ones you forwarded to me last week. I may have found the perfect poison for him."

"Really? It will have to be undetectable since he's a presidential hopeful."

"Oh, it is. We just need two weeks to have it build up in his system, four weeks preferably." Julia moved to the next knot in the president's back.

"Is it a complicated poison?" asked the president.

"Not at all, we've been eating it all night."

Snow rose up onto his elbows to peer over his shoulder. When he saw his companion's mischievous smile, he inquisitively held up a piece of black licorice and watched her nod. Focusing on the candy, he licked his lips and smiled at its presumed genius.


	8. Death Cometh

**17 Death Cometh**

Coriolanus entered his office to find the head of mansion security talking in whispers to his secretary.

One of Vera's assistants noticed the president and cleared her throat, alerting everyone to their feet.

The president approached Vera's desk. "Good morning, George. What brings you by?"

The Peacekeeper clasped his hands behind his back. "Your security assistant asked me to meet him in your office, sir."

"Ashur? Why?"

"I don't know, sir." George pointed to a handgun secured in its holster atop Vera's desk. "He passed me his sidearm and said that he would wait for you in your office."

Peering at his closed office door, Coriolanus's brow furled with curiosity. "Why did he ask you to be here?"

"Mr. Magnus mumbled something about turning himself in, sir. He didn't seem himself."

When Coriolanus looked to his secretary, Vera shrugged. "I know nothing."

"Okay," said Coriolanus. "I'll go talk to him."

George took a step towards the president's office. "Should I join you, sir?"

For a brief moment, Coriolanus pondered the question. "No. I'll talk to him alone."

"Very good, sir. I'll be standing by in case."

With a simple nod of gratitude, the president entered his office to find Ashur Magnus slumped forward in the guest chair.

The man jumped to attention—the former Peacekeeper ever deeply ingrained within.

Slowly, Coriolanus walked behind his desk, noticing the taut neck muscles and bloodshot eyes of the man before him. The president waited for the man to make eye contact, which did not happen. Snow swallowed. "What's wrong Ashur?"

With a slight quiver in his jaw, the man said, "I've failed you, sir. I let you and Panem down. I'm here to turn myself in, to receive the punishment you deem fit."

Coriolanus noticed how the man seemed terrified to make eye contact. "Ashur, look at me."

Shifting nervously, Ashur's eyes met the president's gaze.

"Tell me what happened," said Snow.

"They're..." The man's eyes darted around the room as if reliving something frightful. "They're dead. I killed them all."

Coriolanus swallowed. "Who? Who's dead?"

"The Abernathys."

The blood drained from Snow's face. "The victor too?"

With his lips pressed tight, Ashur shook his head. "He wasn't there."

"Start from the beginning," commanded the president. "Tell me everything."

"I travelled by train to District 11, as instructed, to have a private talk with Haymitch Abernathy, to remind the young man that it was inappropriate for him to be corresponding with the first daughter. The train arrived after sunset, but it was still early in the evening, so I carried on through the snow to that district's Victor's Village. Since only one house was lit, it was easy to find Mr. Abernathy's. I knocked on the door and was met by his mother.

"I proceeded to explain that I was sent on the behest of the government to talk to the young victor alone, she reluctantly let me in, explaining that the young victor had gone out shopping. His mother showed me to their sitting room where I could wait for his return. The mother returned to the kitchen where she and the victor's girlfriend were preparing dinner.

"Shortly after, the victor's younger brother came to see me and began asking all sorts of questions. He had to be 14 or 15-years-old. And apparently, the cockiness ran in the family, because this punk had a mouth on him.

"Feeling exhausted, I was in no mood for any district preaching and called out to the mother that I would return in the morning. The mother came out of the kitchen telling me that this was probably for the best, and that tomorrow I should just call instead of bothering them with my presence. It was clear that she had been drinking.

"All this gave the victor's brother even more confidence, and he began pushing me towards the door calling me Capital trash and that I had no right to be in a victor's home.

"I was almost through the doorway when the kid shoved me hard in an attempt to send me flying out the door. This is when I lost it. I stiff-armed the punk to teach him a lesson. He slipped on some melted snow and struck his head on an umbrella stand. The boy tried to stagger to his feet, but he collapsed on the adjacent sitting room floor.

"The mother slashed at me, just missing my face with a chef's knife carried from the kitchen. The soldier in me subconsciously took over, and I...killed her.

"The victor's girlfriend started screaming in the hallway, forcing me to immediately silence her. This we are taught to do in Peacekeeper _cleanup_ operations. I then proceeded to make sure that the victor's brother would not regain consciousness.

"Once I collected my thoughts, I contacted the Head Peacekeeper at District 11's base, told him who I was, and that I needed a _cleanup_ team. Without hesitation, he and his small intelligence gathering team came to assist me with the situation. We took away everything but the blood stained carpet. Since we cannot replace carpets, we often leave them to send a message."

Adjusting to Ashur's news, Coriolanus took a deep breath as he flexed his hand, returning the circulation in his fingers. Unclenching his jaw, Snow asked, "And what of the victor?"

"I set up surveillance in an empty victor's house. Mr. Abernathy came home and immediately discovered the blood. He also discovered the heavy footprints in the snow in front of his door. Somehow, he knew not to inquirer with the mayor nor to investigate with the town apothecary. He just...locked himself inside and hasn't been seen of since."

Snow sat slowly into his leather chair. "Has he been calling, making inquiries?"

"No, sir. The next day he destroyed his phone, tore it off the wall. Before I returned to the Capitol, he closed all the curtains and hasn't even been seen looking out."

Gripping his leather armrests, Snow combed over the details in his mind with a blank stare.

"Mr. President, I'm sorry that I did not report this sooner. I believed this news to be too sensitive for electronic transmission. To make sure that this was contained, I remained in District 11 for a couple more days to see how things fell out. I returned last night so that I could report to you and turn myself in."

"What about the girlfriend? Does she have family looking for her?"

"No, sir. She's an orphan with no siblings; there are no relatives alive according to Peacekeeper records."

Snow gnawed his lip in thought.

"This morning, I contacted the intelligence gathering team I left on surveillance in District 11. They say the victor has not left the premises. From what they can see through the curtains, they believe he's drinking heavily, staying up all night, and passing out during the day."

Cupping his hands above his lap, the president's facial muscles relaxed as his focus turned to his security assistant. "Tell me, Mr. Magnus, where exactly did you fail?"

Ashur sweaty brow pinched together. "Sir?"

"You came here declaring that you failed me, that you failed Panem. How so?"

"I killed the victor's family."

Licking his lips, Snow said, "As I remember it, I did not give a kill order."

Ashur clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head. "I know, sir. I'm deeply sorry and accept full responsibility."

"I ordered you to send a message informing Mr. Abernathy to stay clear of my daughter. You delivered that message. I see nothing wrong."

Raising his head, Ashur spoke cautiously. "What about the family?"

"Things don't go as planned," said Snow with a shrug. "Besides, they disrespected and attacked you. The people of the districts seem lacking in their respect for the Capitol and for all we do for them. They don't realize how hard it is to keep Panem functioning smoothly." Snow's fingers began picking at a seam on his leather armrest. "People use to be afraid of the dark until science told them that there was nothing to fear. Perhaps it's healthy to be a little bit afraid, to think the boogieman lurks under the bed, waiting for one to be bad." When Snow looked up at his worried security assistant, the president smiled. "Can you, my friend, continue to be Panem's boogieman?"

Ashur began to fidget, his face heavy with dismay.

Snow straightened in his chair. "Mr. Magnus, you handled the incident well. Had you tried covering it up, or worse, ran, I would be furious. What you have done, just now, proves to me how important you are to Panem. Honesty outweighs any skill. I want you to continue with what you are doing."

"Okay," said a dumbfounded Ashur. "What should I do in regard to the victor?"

"Have your people keep an eye on him. We'll leave him be for the moment. Let him be an example to others."

"What if he drinks himself to death, Mr. President?"

"So be it." Snow's mouth twitch before forming a grin. "A murdered victor is one thing, but no one cares about a dead drunk. All the better if he succumbs to some illegal liquor." Snow rose to his feet and extended his hand to receive a firm handshake from Ashur. "Thank you for the thorough report, Mr. Magnus."

"Sir."

The president guided Ashur into the lobby where George and Vera rose to their feet. "George, please return Mr. Magnus's sidearm to him."

With a simple nod, George passed Ashur his gun.

"And Vera," continued Snow, "please clear Mr. Magnus's calendar for the next four days. He's earned a well deserved rest."

Ashur turned to the president. "I can return to work, sir."

"No no, Mr. Ashur. I'm in your debt for your diligence. Take a couple days and relax, go to the beaches of District 4. If the sun is not to your liking, go have some fun with the girls of District 1. You've earned it."

"Thank you, sir," said Ashur. "I'll just rest a little here in the Capitol. I get enough travel with work."

Walking his assistant out, Snow patted the man on the back. "Sounds like a plan. I'll see you Monday."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

On his return to his office, the president paused before his secretary. "Vera, please give Mr. Ashur a raise, the standard increase if you'd be so kind."

The secretary eyed her boss. "What did he do?"

"His job." With a new sense of confidence, Snow's smirk grew.

**...**

Head Gamemaker Titus beamed with pride when he said, "This summer's games were one of our finest. The public has given them their highest approval ratings in decades. The victor should be released from the hospital this weekend, so I'm thinking that Tuesday would be ideal for the crowning ceremony.

Coriolanus glanced around the conference table at his ministers and aides. "Very well. Just tell me when to show up."

"Mr. President," continued Titus, swallowing, "I would like to make a change to next year's games. For the 52nd, we want to use an arena similar to this year's. We have two arenas prepared, but the one I now propose won't be ready unless we use some extra funding."

"How much will it cost?" asked the president.

The Head Gamemaker bunched his lips with hesitation. "Um, I estimate—"

The door of the conference swung open without a knock as George swiftly entered the room. Without hesitation, the head of mansion security approached Coriolanus and leaned close to the president's ear, whispering, "Julia needs you."

Coriolanus immediately rose to his feet and began walking towards the door.

Titus turned in his chair. "Mr. President, the arenas?"

Snow stopped and glared at the man, causing everyone in the room to divert their eyes. The president was about to say that it could wait, but he now knew that words were no longer necessary.

His aides and ministers knew it too, for the room remained deathly silent.

"I apologize, Mr. President," said Titus as he faced forward in his chair.

The president and George stepped into the corridor and proceeded towards the elevators.

"Where?" asked the president.

"The Grand Hotel, downtown," replied George. "I'll drive."

"Did she say what was wrong?" asked Snow, stepping past the veteran Peacekeeper into the elevator.

"No," said George as he pressed the button for the underground parking. "But she sounded distraught."

Coriolanus face became flush with emotion, all too aware of the dangers of his friend's chosen occupation.

At the hotel, Coriolanus found the door ajar, so he entered alone when there was no response to his knocking. From the bedroom, he could hear a running shower.

He entered the steamy bathroom to find his partially clothed friend sitting on the shower floor, shivering uncontrollably under the water.

When she glanced up, the light revealed that one side of her face was red and swollen. She looked away, returning her focus to the shower floor.

Coriolanus turned off the shower and reached for a towel, draping it across her shoulders. Sitting on the wet floor, he wrapped an arm around her.

"Don't talk," said Julia with a weakened voice. "No questions."

Coriolanus nodded.

When Julia adjusted herself to lean against Coriolanus, a small stream of blood ran towards the shower drain. She felt his body tense. "I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner," she said, barely audible. "My exceptional judgment of character finally failed me." She gripped the president's hand to stop it from repeatedly forming a fist. "I should have seen the warning signs. He was a pleasant and reliable client for years, but his health had been declining and his demeanor had become...bitter. I guess everyone changes."

Though it was difficult, Coriolanus honored her request and remained silent. He reached for a second towel and draped it over her shoulders as she continued to shiver. There he sat with her in his arms, the minutes ticking by, wishing he could turn back time and prevent his friend from being hurt.

Eventually, Julia straightened and with the aid of her friend, climbed gingerly to her feet. "I should take a proper shower and dress."

"Will you go to the doctor?" asked Snow, keeping hold of her hand.

After a brief pause to collect her senses, she nodded.

"I promise to never bring this up unless you need to discuss it, but can I ask one question, just one?"

Knowing the question, Julia cleared her throat and met his stare. "Just one."

Through gritted teeth, Snow asked, "What is his name?"

**...**

Overcome by rage, Coriolanus threw his garden shears against the wall. "Make sure he suffers. Make sure he knows why he's suffering."

"Yes, sir," said Ashur Magnus, his expression tight and focused. "We'll pick him up tomorrow night as planned."

"Good. Julia has promised me that she will be spotted at a very public function at that time. It should provide a watertight alibi for her in case it's needed."

"It's good to be cautious, Mr. President," said Ashur. "Will you be somewhere public at that time?"

Coriolanus nodded. "I'll be at a fundraiser."

"Very good, sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Magnus. Your planning and advice has been meticulous and helpful." The president ran a hand across his sweaty brow, the grow lights of his indoor garden feeling excessively warm that summer evening. "You may go."

"Wait," said a female voice. The voice had come from behind a small row of Devil's Roses.

Both men turned and watched the first daughter appear from around a corner. Her face was flush with emotion, her eyes wet and on the verge of tears. With a strained voice, Livia addressed Ashur. "Are you the one that hurt my friend, Haymitch?"

Taken aback, Ashur could not respond. He glanced to the president.

"Are you?" Not waiting for the response, Livia slapped the man across his face. "Are you?"

Ashur began stepping backward to avoid further contact, afraid to catch her hand, hurting her if is she should strike again.

Holding up his hands in a plea for patience, Coriolanus stepped between Ashur and Livia. "Go, Mr. Magnus. I'll talk to my daughter."

Without a word, Ashur swiftly departed.

Livia's angry stare fell on her father. "You've become a monster."

"It's not what you think."

"I've been wondering what that man's purpose was," said Livia. "Now, I know. Who's Julia?"

Coriolanus bit his lip. "A friend."

Livia huffed. "Some friend. Why haven't I met her?"

Finding himself lost for words before his own daughter, Coriolanus could only say, "It's complicated."

"Father, were you so ashamed that I shared my bed with a district boy that you had to hurt him and his family?"

Paralyzed by emotion, Coriolanus stared at his daughter.

"When Haymitch stopped calling me, I wrote him a physical letter only to have the letter returned to me unopened. So I waited until this summer's Hunger Games to see if I did something wrong. Haymitch refused to talk to me. He wouldn't even look at me." Tears began flowing from Livia's eyes. "Do you know how painful that felt, father?"

Coriolanus swallowed, but did not respond.

"This was when the District 11 escort pulled me aside and told me of the rumors she heard while in the district. She told me that Haymitch's girlfriend, mother, and young brother had all gone missing. Their bodies have never been found. The escort thinks that Haymitch is trying to drink himself to death. Hearing you now, hearing you talk to your...butcher, I've figured it out. It is all clear to me."

Unable to lie to his daughter, Coriolanus said in a soft surrendering voice, "It was only suppose to be a warning, but tempers got out of control. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Me?" burst Livia. "What about Haymitch, his family? Whom did you just sick your dog on? Who's your next victim?"

Snow's voice became firm as focus sharpened. "The next one is no victim. He is getting what he deserves."

"Isn't this why we have laws, the courts?"

"I take care of the bastards that slip past the law. I'm the last resort when the system fails."

Livia stepped forward and gazed into her father's stern eyes. What she saw made her sigh with grief. "My God, you truly believe that."

"It's true," said Snow, his hands trembling at his sides. "If only people would just listen to me."

With no more tears, Livia stared disappointedly at her father. "I'm leaving you; I'm leaving the mansion. I don't want you contacting me. Sick your dog on me if you like. I don't care. I just don't care." She turned and began walking for the exit.

"Livia?" pleaded Coriolanus. "Livia?"

She turned. "Don't worry fath...Mr. President. Your secrets are safe. I won't tell anyone that I once loved a district boy; I'll spare you the embarrassment. From now on, you can think of me as a ghost, like mother." Livia touched a nearby Devil's Rose—her late mother's favorite. "I wonder what she did to you."

As a tear rolled down his cheek, Coriolanus watched his daughter walk out of his indoor garden and out of his life.


End file.
